Promotion
by Geek1
Summary: 7th in the Dill and Ty series
1. Default Chapter

Title: Promotion Author: Geek Rating: NC-17 This story contains sex – don't say you didn't know! Disclaimer:  
  
The characters and situations of the TV program "SPACE: Above and Beyond" are the creations of Glen Morgan and James Wong, Fox Broadcasting and Hard Eight Productions, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. Dylan Mackenzie belongs to me.  
  
Promotion.  
  
Dylan McQueen sat in the hot Alabama sunshine, her twin sons, now a few months over 2 years of age, on chairs to each side of her and her 8-month- old daughter on her lap. The boys had been behaving beautifully all morning. They'd sat waiting patiently, eating the treats she had brought for them and drinking their cups dry. She glanced at them both. Hamish was beginning to nod off. Dill'd been surprised that he'd managed to sit still for so long. Cameron sat watching the people in front of them expectantly, his black clad Daddy doll clutched on his lap and his thumb firmly fixed in his mouth. On her lap Isobel had long ago drifted to sleep. Dill felt like sleeping herself, with so many speeches being spouted, and some high ranking official congratulating almost everyone he knew.  
  
Stifling a yawn, Dill peered down to the front row where she could see her husband's squadron, the 58th, -the Wildcards - sitting waiting for their moment. From her seat she couldn't tell which one was her husband. All she could see were their white covers as the sun blazed down on their heads. Finally the time came when she heard his name called. His slim figure rose from his seat and marched smartly up to the podium. My, she thought, how fabulous he looks in his dress blues, the buttons shining brightly in the sunlight. Even the red stripe on his pants legs she'd teased him about, saying that it just didn't match the rest of the outfit, seemed perfectly in place.  
  
Dill looked quickly to her left, catching movement out of the corner of her eye. Cameron was standing in his chair, having heard his father's name called, and clearly wanted to get a good look at him. Holding onto him with her free hand, she smiled as he turned to her, his eyes shining brightly.  
  
"Daddy!" he pointed proudly.  
  
"Yes it is, little man. Now shush. Sit down, sweetie," she told him.  
  
Refusing to sit back down, Cameron continued to stand, and with a huge grin, began waving to his father. Dill tried to get him to stop, but the man sitting next to him, himself wearing an impressive amount of medals on his uniform, leaned across.  
  
"Mrs McQueen, I presume?" he asked, smiling.  
  
"Yes," she nodded, embarrassed somewhat by Cameron's behaviour.  
  
"Don't worry about this young man waving. It happens all the time," he reassured her. "After all, he's just as proud of his daddy as the rest of us."  
  
"Yes, but any minute now he'll start calling him," Dill whispered.  
  
"It's okay, I promise,"the man told her. "I must say they've been incredibly well behaved this morning. You should be very proud of them."  
  
"I am,"Dill smiled. "Of course his brother has gone to sleep, but there was no way Cameron would miss this. He adores his father, and even a glimpse of him is enough to make his day."  
  
All the while Cameron had been waving. Timidly at first. Then, as he realised his mother wasn't going to stop him, more and more vigorously, obviously desperate to get his father to wave back.  
  
"Daddy can't wave to you, sweetie," she told him. "He's busy. But you can see him later. Sit down or just stand there nicely."  
  
"That's my daddy," he told her firmly.  
  
"Yes, Cameron, it's daddy. We'll see him soon. Look, its Cooper," she told him pointing, trying to distract him before he started calling.  
  
"Daddy! Coop!" he called out.  
  
"No, Cameron!" Dill told him. "No shouting. They can't say hello back to you. They're busy. Now stand there nicely or sit down." As he turned his big blue eyes on her and gave her a look so reminiscent of his father, she almost laughed out loud. "Don't give me that look, mister! It doesn't work for daddy. It's sure as hell not going to work for you."  
  
In her arms the baby stirred. "Now look, you monkey boy,"she scolded him gently. "You've woken up Isobel. Shush before you wake Hamish too!"  
  
"That's Isobel!" Cameron proudly told the man next to him.  
  
"Well, you certainly gave your children interesting names, ma'am." He smiled at Dill.  
  
"I'm Scots," she told him simply. "And so's our surname. It made sense."  
  
"Ah, I see,"he replied. "But I thought Colonel McQueen was an Invitro?"  
  
"He is," Dill told him warily. She was always suspicious of anyone who brought up the invitro issue. "But McQueen is a Scots name."  
  
"Did he choose it himself?" he asked.  
  
"No,"she answered slowly. Dill was highly conscious of how some people might react to the knowledge that she was married to an invitro - a man artificially gestated in a growth tank, bred to be an indentured slave.  
  
"Well, ma'am, however he got his name, it's one to be proud of. He's a well-respected officer of the corps, and it's about time he was finally given his promotion to full colonel. If he was natural born, this would have come years ago," he told her.  
  
"He has it now," Dill smiled, relieved that the man seemed sincere. "And we're here to see it. That's what matters."  
  
She reached out to stop Cameron from climbing off his chair. "No, Cameron. Stay on the chair, please."  
  
"I want my daddy!" he pointed.  
  
"No, Cameron. You'll see him in a little while. For now you have to be a good boy and sit nicely. Soon, my lover. Soon you can go see daddy."  
  
"It'll be finished any minute now," Dill was told. "They've finished handing out the medals. The 58th truly are a squad to be proud of. They show us just how good we Marines really are."  
  
"Oh, they surely do," Dill agreed. "They really are a lovely bunch."  
  
"Lovely?" the man queried.  
  
"As lovely a bunch of life takers and heart breakers as you could wish to meet," Dill grinned. "But then, I'm biased. After all, I'm married to the CO."  
  
All around them people began to stand up, stretching their limbs after having sat for so long.  
  
"You can let him go say hello to his daddy now," the man told her. "This is the point where families get to say hi, and then we all move along to the refreshments." He held out his hand. "It's been nice to meet you, Mrs McQueen. I hope we'll meet again soon."  
  
After shaking her hand, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving her to look around for Cameron, who'd vanished from his perch on the chair. Gently waking Hamish, she took him by the hand and headed towards the front, confident that Cameron would be there already. As she approached, she could see him, wearing his father's white cover as he snuggled in his arms.  
  
McQueen's eyes widened as he saw her. "Dill?" he asked incredulously. "Is that really you? In a dress?"  
  
"Yes, it truly is," she smiled, blushing furiously. "Iona told me that for such a special occasion I simply had to. She helped me choose it. Does it look okay?"  
  
"Dylan?" came another voice. "Wow. You look fantastic!" It was Cooper Hawkes, an invitro like McQueen, and the current beau of Dill's best friend Iona, grinning with delight at the sight of her. And even more so at Isobel, who'd seen him and was reaching for him. During the day since their arrival, Isobel had taken rather a shine to Hawkes. "Can I hold her?" he asked.  
  
"Of course,"Dill chuckled, handing her over. "Iona said to apologise for her not being here. She had a sudden spate of births to see to." She turned back to McQueen. "Well, colonel, there's another man here who needs a hug too." She bent to pick up Hamish, who had gone strangely quiet and was clutching at her legs.  
  
"Hey, little guy," Ty smiled at him, holding out an arm. "I've got room for another. Coming for a hug with daddy?"  
  
Hamish clung to his mother as though his life depended on it. McQueen's face dropped.  
  
"Don't worry, Ty,"Dill told him, reaching to give his arm a squeeze. "It's probably the uniform. He's never seen you in it before."  
  
At that moment the rest of the squad arrived. The two women, Shane Vansen - small and dark, her shoulder length hair today pulled back into a French plait but every inch a Marine - and Vanessa Damphousse - a tall black beauty, who even in her unisex dress uniform still managed to exude her femininity - followed by Nathan West, slim, dark haired and earnest looking.  
  
"Congratulations," Dill told them. "It was about time." She turned to the shorter of the two women. "So, Shane, how does it feel to be Major Vansen? And you guys - Captains! Keep going and you'll soon catch up with the colonel here." She smiled at him. "A full bird at last. I'm so proud of you." She fingered the medal he wore. "And more fruit salad too." She looked around at them. "For all of you."  
  
Hamish wriggled in her arms, seeing the rest of the squad. McQueen's face dropped even further and he hugged Cameron closer to him as Hamish called out "'Phousse" and reached for her.  
  
Chuckling, Dill handed him over and turned to grin at McQueen. "I think we need to have a few more so Shane and Nathan don't feel left out!"  
  
They all looked at his horrified face and burst out laughing.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Later that evening, the children finally put to bed, Dill and Ty sat on the terrace of the house they'd rented in Mobile, watching the sunset. Dill sat snuggled up close as Ty wrapped an arm around her.  
  
"Your mother didn't come to the medal ceremony." he said quietly.  
  
"No," Dill said softly. "She said that although she thinks you're ok, she wasn't interested in seeing you more than she had to." She looked up at him. "Sorry."  
  
"Why are you sorry?" he asked.  
  
"Because she's an old cow. She should have come. You looked so damn handsome in your dress uniform. I'm so proud of you Ty, a full colonel at last."  
  
"It was nice of her to arrange a celebratory party for us. I think the 58th were dying to meet her. You always make her sound like such a battle axe, and she's not at all." Ty chuckled.  
  
"It was nice of her, yes. But you know, I think they were glad to get away. What I want to know is who all those other people were? You seemed to know most of them, and mother certainly knew them all."  
  
"Well, I suppose they're people she knows from her days training as a doctor. She trained in a military hospital, didn't she? And I assume it was on base somewhere." Ty told her.  
  
"I guess so. But I think she's been keeping in touch with them over the years. That's why I got sent to the Saratoga - someone she knew asked her." Dill grinned up at him. "I'm sure glad they did. I mean, how else would I have met you? Just think, Ty, if they hadn't decided to try and be politically correct and send me to teach you and Cooper to play?" She laughed at the memory of McQueen and Hawkes barefoot, running around on large sheets of paper, leaving painted footprints.  
  
"What?" he asked as she collapsed into a fit of the giggles.  
  
"You and Cooper - your face when I told you we were going to do foot painting." Dill laughed.  
  
"You should have seen yours when I picked your legs up to do that wheelbarrow thing." He was laughing himself now.  
  
"Someone up there was looking out for us that day. Just think... we might never have met at all. No Cameron, no Hamish, and no Isobel... no us." she said with a grin.  
  
"Well, we did, so let's not worry about what might have happened. General Addams complimented me on what well behaved children I have," he told her. "And on my perfectly delightful wife. When did you meet him?"  
  
"General Addams? I have no idea," she said, puzzled. "Unless he's the man who was sitting next to Cameron. He told me not to worry when Cameron stood up on his chair and waved to you. Did you see him?"  
  
"Oh, I saw. I heard him, too. Calling out to me and Hawkes." Ty nodded.  
  
"I tried to stop him, Ty. I did truly. But of course, once he'd seen you, that was it. And then when everyone stood at the end... well, he took off to find you like a bat out of hell." Dill smiled. "He's missed you terribly. But fortunately he has the doll. He carries it with him everywhere. I have to sneak it away to wash it while he's asleep, and then once it's dry, sneak it back again."  
  
"And you? Have you missed me? Or have the children kept you too busy?" Ty asked quietly.  
  
"Of course I've missed you! What a thing to ask! It's hell without you. Yes, the children do keep me busy, but that doesn't mean I don't miss you. How could I not?"  
  
"Good. I'm glad I'm not the only one feeling miserable then." he smiled.  
  
They sat cuddled up in companionable silence for a while, then, "Ty?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Mother had an idea. Well, I say mother had an idea. But, well... she said she'd sign the cheque at least, which is why she came," Dill said hesitantly.  
  
"Sign the cheque?" Ty asked.  
  
"She's in charge of my trust fund. She said that she would clear the funds if you okayed it first."  
  
"Okayed what?" he asked, sitting up straight and facing her.  
  
"Well, remember that you once asked me to come and live at Loxley?" At his nod, she carried on. "Well, I thought, what if we bought a house here? A beach house... a holiday home. Somewhere that I can bring the children in the summer, or the winter, or whenever you have leave. We could all meet up together and...." Dill looked at his expression and trailed off.  
  
"What you mean, Dill, is you're going to buy a house with your money, and this is your way of trying to make me feel like I get a say in the matter." Ty said stiffly.  
  
"Don't go getting all macho about it, Ty," she pleaded. "So it's my money, so what? Why do you think my grandfather left it in trust until I was 30? So that by then I'd have a family - that's you and the children - and would be able to use the money sensibly. It's for all of us, Ty. What's wrong with using it to buy a place around here? If it means we get to spend more time together, surely that's a good thing? And one day this war will be over and you'll be posted home. It won't be to Scotland, will it? I've noticed a distinct lack of United States Marines in Inverness, Ty. They'll probably stick you behind a desk at Loxley, and we'll still never get to see you. But if we had a house here, you wouldn't have to live in Officers' Quarters, and me and the children would be able to come and stay for however long we liked. We could be a real family, Ty, all of us. Including any others that might happen along."  
  
"Happen along? You're not telling me you're pregnant again, are you?" he asked, a note of panic in his voice.  
  
"How the hell could I be?" Dill exclaimed. "This is the first night we've spent together in 8 months, and we haven't actually done anything yet!"  
  
"Phew!" her husband grinned. "I have condoms. Please, Dill, let's use them. I know you want more kids, but in a few years. Not now. I'd like to have you as you are for a while yet."  
  
"You know I'd like a big family, Ty. It's not like we can't afford it. Even without my trust fund, your pay would easily support a bigger family. And with the trust fund, well maybe we'll be able to afford to buy you something nice to fly. No more cadging lifts home to Scotland."  
  
"That's blackmail,"Ty said, raising an eyebrow. "We already have three lovely children. Let's wait a while before we have more. I'd like to get to know the ones we have a little better first. Surely you can wait a year or two for the next one?"  
  
"I guess, but I can't help it, Ty. I just enjoy having your babies. It feels right. I can't explain it, but it just feels right knowing that I'm carrying another McQueen," Dill said softly. "And anyway we still don't know if we'll ever have any more, do we? I mean, you didn't think you could have these three, did you?"  
  
Ty got up from his seat and pulled Dill to her feet as he kissed her gently, slowly kissing and licking at her collarbone.  
  
"If you keep that up, mister, number four might put in an appearance sooner rather than later." Dill whispered.  
  
"You know what...." he mumbled into her neck, his hand sliding down her body, pulling her dress up her legs to stroke her thighs. His eyes widened. "Stockings! Oh god, Dill, at this moment in time I don't care. You can have a hundred kids if you like. All I know is how sexy you are in that dress. I've never seen you in one before. You look beautiful, Dill. And you made a big impression on all the high ups who were here tonight. You know that, don't you?"  
  
"Don't be silly," Dill smiled, turning in his arms to face him. "They spent the evening talking to mother. And to you. Congratulating you on your promotion. no doubt."  
  
"No, Dill. They spent a lot of time telling me what a lovely wife I have. Telling me that I'm a very lucky man. As if I didn't already know that." Ty chuckled.  
  
"If anyone's lucky, it's me," she sighed, as his hands began to knead her bottom.  
  
"So we're both lucky," he whispered, pulling her close to him, letting her feel his arousal as he kissed her hungrily. "Since I saw you in that dress, I've wanted nothing more than to get you out if it. Would your mother mind if we went to bed now, do you think?"  
  
"She'd think that we had no manners at all, and we're behaving like animals, but who cares? After all, it's been forever since we last saw each other." Dill looked around her at the perfectly manicured lawn reaching down to the water's edge. "What's wrong with here? The sunset is lovely, the water is beautiful and the night is deliciously warm... why waste it?"  
  
"What? Here, in the garden, for the entire world to see?" Ty asked warily.  
  
"Who's the entire world? Where are they hiding? There's you and me. And if mother looks out, she'll get an eyeful, won't she?" Dill teased.  
  
With a grin, Ty pulled Dill down onto the lawn and began to run his hands up under her dress, stroking her stomach as she lay on her back.  
  
"Come on, flyboy. Forget the fancy stuff. You know what I want."Dill giggled. "There'll be plenty of time for that later. But right now I want to feel you inside me." She reached down to his pants, undoing the button and pulling the zipper down.  
  
"TC! Dylan! What on earth are you two thinking of? Get off that grass this instant! You'll ruin that dress, Dylan, not to mention the show you're putting on for the neighbours! Come inside right now!"  
  
"Damn! Caught by your mother!" Ty laughed, zipping himself back up.  
  
"Like two naughty school kids," Dill tittered. "Come on then. Let's go inside for our telling off." She got up and took his hand as they headed inside.  
  
"Yes, ma'am."  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
"For goodness sake, you two, can't you wait until later?" Dill's mother said crossly as they came in through the French windows.  
  
"Well, mother, it has been eight months. And the sunset is soooo romantic," Dill teased. "And, of course, Ty is just so deliciously handsome. No red-blooded woman could fail to be affected by such a combination."  
  
Her mother just glared at her. "Well, it's not appropriate. Not at all. You, TC - you really should know better. How would it look if your superiors heard about it? And after getting your promotion, too!"  
  
"I think, Moira, that you're over reacting a bit," he told her. "We didn't actually do anything."  
  
"But you were going to! And that lovely dress would have been ruined, Dylan. Grass stains just never come out."  
  
"And you know this how, mother?" Dill asked mischievously. "Did you and dad get caught?"  
  
"Dylan! Really!" her mother snapped. "I made some supper, but maybe you two would like to bypass the food and just go and be private. Because I sure as hell don't want to have to watch the pair of you behaving like hormonally charged teenagers!"  
  
"We can sit and eat our supper with you, mother," Dill laughed. "We'll behave, won't we, Ty? You won't have to send us to our room."  
  
Her mother stared icily at her. "One day, Dylan, you are going to push me too far. You really are!"  
  
"Calm down, both of you," McQueen told them sternly. "We'll behave, Moira, I promise. I'm sorry if we embarrassed you, we just got a little carried away. It won't happen again. Why don't we sit down and eat and we can discuss this house business."  
  
The two women agreeing, they sat and ate the supper that Moira had prepared for them.  
  
"What we need to think about, Ty, is where are we going to buy a house? Glen and Rhonda's house is lovely, but do we want to be that far away from Loxley? What about here, in Mobile? Or Montgomery near Rhonda, maybe?" Dill asked as they ate.  
  
"Well, Mobile is nice. Or, at least, there are some lovely houses on the waterfront. And it's not too far from Loxley for travelling each day." Ty told them. "Of course I'm pretty sure the riverside places, like this,"he waved his knife around to indicate the house they were in, "are expensive. But I do have a fair amount in my savings account."  
  
"TC, Dill has the money her grandfather left her," Moira said. "He would have taken to you right away, so please don't think, not for a moment, that it is Dylan's money and therefore only for Dylan. My father would have seen in you the son he never had." She looked him squarely in the eye. "Perhaps that's why I resented you so much. I knew my father would have approved of you as a husband for my daughter, and that rankled a lot."  
  
"Really mother? You've never talked much about grandpa Mackenzie. What was he like? I wish I'd met him." Dill said wistfully.  
  
"You did meet him," Moira told her. "You were about four years old. He came to visit us. You took one look at his beard and sat yourself in his lap and refused to be moved."  
  
"He had a beard?" Dill asked, intrigued.  
  
"Oh yes. And I have to say it, but Cameron, although he looks like TC here, also reminds me so much of my father. I suppose it's the blonde hair and blue eyes. After all, a lot of highland folk are descended from the Vikings." Moira laughed. "My father really looked like a Viking too - tall, blonde, startling blue eyes. And he had a dry sense of humour that he kept well hidden. He used to tease my mother that when he died he wanted to be set sail on the loch in a burning boat and wait for the valkyries to come take him away."  
  
"What did he do? "McQueen asked her. "For a living, I mean."  
  
"He was a distiller - he made whiskey," Moira told him. "My sister and her husband run the distillery now, and I assume their son will take over eventually." She looked at her son-in-law thoughtfully. "Your sons, however... well, Hamish is already following in your footsteps, I'd say, and he'll be a soldier. But Cameron? Well, who knows what Cameron will do. Maybe he'll take over the distillery."  
  
"Oh mother! They're not yet two and a half. How can you say Hamish is going to be a soldier?" Dylan cried.  
  
"Look at him, Dylan. Open your eyes and look at him. He's a good head taller than Cameron. He walked at nine months. He's strong - very strong - and his invitro genes are already proving themselves. That boy looks like he was designed to be a soldier. Look at TC - he's slim built, and so are you. But Hamish isn't. I'm not saying he's fat, because he isn't, but he's going to be a pretty powerful young man."  
  
"I know what you mean," Ty said quietly. "And frankly it worries me. I've sat and pondered it." At Dill's questioning glance he gave her a small smile. "It occurred to me that maybe somewhere in my gene mix they added something - they fiddled somehow. Maybe if they couldn't produce perfect soldiers, they wanted us to breed them ourselves."  
  
"TC - that is a terrifying thought," Moira whispered. "Would they really do that?"  
  
"Aerotech is capable of anything. They probably knew their days farming invitros were numbered and so looked around for something else. No doubt one day they'll say, 'look at all these tank brats. We designed them to be perfect soldiers', and of course they'll all be natural born, so no stigma."  
  
"Jesus H. Christ, Ty," Dill whispered. "You really think that about our Hamish? That he's some kind of experiment?"  
  
"I think, Dill, that he's two years old, and he's my son. You know I would never let those Aerotech scientists near him, don't you?"  
  
"Yes,"she nodded. "But if you think that Aerotech did something to your genes, then the logical next step is that at some point they'll turn up on our doorstep to take him away."  
  
"No, Dill, not till hell freezes over will I let my baby be so much as looked at by those so-called scientists. But I may well be wrong about it. I probably am. So let's not get too serious about it, shall we?" He smiled at the two wide-eyed women. "This is delicious lasagne, Moira."  
  
Dill managed a smile, reassured and delighted that he'd referred to Hamish as his baby.  
  
"Thank you. It's a recipe that Dylan gave me," Moira smiled.  
  
"I gave you?" Dill asked, puzzled. "I don't think so."  
  
"Not you - your father." Moira smiled again.  
  
"Why did you name me after him? It's so confusing." Dill queried.  
  
"Well," Moira began, "I don't really know. It just felt right at the time."  
  
"So you still cared for him then, when I was born."  
  
"Of course I still cared. If I didn't care, I would have had you terminated and carried on with my career," she told her. "But I didn't."  
  
"Why didn't you try to find him?" Dill asked.  
  
"Because,"her mother looked at her, "because it hurt far too much. I thought he wasn't interested. I thought he didn't want you or me. So why would I have gone looking for him? So that he could send me away? Tell me he didn't want to know? Sorry, Dylan, but that was just too much to ask."  
  
"I understand," McQueen said quietly.  
  
Moira looked thoughtfully at him. "Yes, TC, I believe you do. You're far more perceptive than I've given you credit for."  
  
"It's not being perceptive. It's experience. I've been there." he smiled ruefully.  
  
"Ty?" Dill asked softly.  
  
He put down his knife and fork. "You and Amy aren't the only women I've been involved with, Dill. When I met Amy I was on the rebound. Well, sort of." Ty glanced at the two curious faces watching him. "I really liked her. A lot. And I thought she liked me. Until she found out I was a tank. Then she just dropped me... refused to speak to me, even to answer my calls," he sighed. "I was devastated. And then three weeks later, I met Amy. She was tall, blonde and beautiful. She didn't seem to care that I was a tank." He looked up at Dill's snort of disgust. "Well, she didn't seem to at first. And the rest you know."  
  
Dill smiled at him, reaching out to take his hand. "I don't care that you're an invitro. You do know that, don't you?"  
  
"I think a marriage and three children down the line is a little late to be wondering about that, Dylan," her mother said, rolling her eyes.  
  
"Of course I know," he grinned at her. "Come on – let's take these dishes out."  
  
"Yes, sir," Dill tittered, getting up from her seat and picking up the empty plates. "You know, going back to the house issue - I'm sure if I asked Rhonda, she'd help me look at places, or even maybe recommend a real estate agent."  
  
"Here, Dill, get somewhere in Mobile. With a pool. I enjoy swimming and I'm not too bad, even with this damn artificial leg," Ty told her as they entered the kitchen laden with dishes.  
  
"You have an artificial leg?" Moira asked from the doorway.  
  
"My right one from below the knee. I lost it in those peace talks a few years ago." he told her matter of factly as he stacked the dishes in the washer.  
  
"Can I see it?"  
  
"Mother!" Dill cried.  
  
"Sorry, the doctor in me rears her head sometimes,"Moira apologised. "And I've been reading up on artificial limbs lately." At their questioning looks, she smiled nervously. "Keeping up to date."  
  
"It's ok, you can see it. Give me a couple of mikes." McQueen told her.  
  
"Now?" Dill asked. "For god's sake, mother!"  
  
"It's okay, Dill. I don't mind. Really, I don't," her husband tried to placate her.  
  
"What are you going to do? Drop your trousers?" She was almost yelling at him. "Honestly, mother, have you no decency?"  
  
"Dill, calm down. She wants to look at my leg, not my butt! And she is a doctor," Ty laughed. "It's not like I have anything she hasn't seen before. What's the matter - jealous?"  
  
"Oh, you!" Dill squealed as he flicked her with a tea towel. "Go on then, strip off. Show her just why I can hardly keep my hands off you. Hang on - let me help you with those trousers."  
  
She made a grab for him, but he jumped away, laughing. "You are terrible, Dill. But you're right - the light in here is better than the light in the other room. You want to see it properly, Moira, so here's as good as anywhere." He bent to unlace his boots.  
  
"No, let me do that," Dill told him. "Sit down."  
  
She knelt at his feet, slowly unlacing his boots, watching his face as she stroked his ankle and ran her hands up his good leg.  
  
"Stop it, Dill, that's not funny," Ty scolded her, knowing what she was trying to do.  
  
"Spoil sport!" Dill poked her tongue out at him.  
  
"If you two have quite finished," Moira said, with a shake of her head, "Honestly, it's like watching two children, not two adults, the way you two behave!"  
  
They both grinned at her.  
  
"Mind you,"she said, "it's nice to see. At least I know my daughter's truly happy with you."  
  
"Why, thank you, Moira. That's probably the nicest thing you've ever said to me,"Ty smiled. "Now, my leg. Here you go." He stood up, and with a mischievous grin to Dill, dropped his trousers. Dill pulled them off his legs, tugging his socks off too, before sitting on his lap.  
  
Moira knelt and lifted his leg. "You have some serious scarring here, TC. Surely they could have done a better job than this? I could have done a better job!" she said indignantly. "How long before you knew the risk of rejection was past?"  
  
"About two weeks. I had to have complete bed rest. And then, once they were sure, I spent four months in rehab, learning to walk, balance, swim - that sort of thing." Ty told her.  
  
"You must have hated that," Moira said absently, her fingers kneading his flesh around the scarring. "The bed rest, I mean."  
  
"Yes, I did," he admitted.  
  
"Well, if you'd bothered to let me know, I would have come and kept you company." Dill told him with a frown. "I'm sure I could have helped you stop brooding."  
  
"Dylan, once they'd seen the effect you two have on each other, they would have banned you," her mother smiled. "You know, TC, I'm sure I could do something about these scars. If you'd like, that is. Even if I do say so myself, I'm a damn good surgeon and I do a lot of cosmetic work. Tidying this up would be a breeze." At their surprised looks she smiled. "Up at the local hospital I tend to do any cosmetic surgery they need. They don't have their own cosmetic surgeon, so they make as much use if me as they can. And I enjoy it."  
  
"Thanks for the offer, but it's not like I show my legs a lot." Ty smiled.  
  
"You have other scars though, I'll wager. And none of them any better than this."  
  
"Yes, I do. But I've lived with them for so long, it really doesn't matter anymore. Dill doesn't mind them, do you?" he asked his wife. At the shake of her head, he turned to Moira again. "And anyway, my invitro genes are dealing with them. Slowly, but dealing with them." At Moira's intrigued look, he grinned. "I'm engineered to heal faster."  
  
"Of course,"she nodded. "Sorry. As I said, when the doctor emerges, I get rather carried away. But I know I can improve the look of that leg, TC, if you should ever change your mind."  
  
"Thank you." he smiled.  
  
"Okay, that's enough with the leg," Dill told them, climbing off his lap. "Good night, mother. I'm taking my husband away now. I want him all to myself. I've had to share him for most of the day, but now it's my turn." She took Ty's hand and pulled him upright. "Come on, flyboy - put your trousers on."  
  
"Why bother?" Ty laughed, picking them up. "After all, in about five mikes you'll have them off anyway. Come on slow poke." he called over his shoulder to her as he headed out of the door.  
  
Moira smiled, watching them. 'Grandchild number four - here we go', she thought.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
By the time they reached their bedroom, Dill had had enough.  
  
"Ok, flyboy, get those clothes off right now!" she giggled. "Lt me at that body." She began pulling at his shirt, her fingers fumbling with the buttons in her haste.  
  
"Careful or this'll be another shirt you've ruined." he told her. "Anyway, I want to see you out of that dress. Come on, girl - strip!"  
  
"Yes, sir!" Dill giggled, stepping back and kicking off her shoes. "Undo me, please." She turned and presented her zip to him.  
  
Bending his head to kiss the back of her neck, he slowly began lowering the opener, kissing each section of her back as it was revealed by the zip, until finally it was totally undone. Ty slid his hands inside and undid her bra. His hands moved around to knead her breasts as he kissed her shoulders and pushed the dress down with his mouth.  
  
"Jesus, Dill, I'm so hard I don't think I'll last long," he moaned softly.  
  
"Then stop wasting time and help me lose the rest of these clothes," Dill sighed, pushing backwards onto his erection.  
  
Ty slid the dress down her body. He then pulled her bra off until she stood clad only in her panties and the stockings that had so excited him earlier. Kneeling, he buried his face between her thighs, his fingers reaching inside her panties. Pulling them down her legs, he slid his tongue inside her, causing her to gasp and grip his head. With just a few flicks of his tongue, a little gentle sucking and nibbling, it wasn't long before Dill came, pushing his head into her hot centre as her body bucked under his attentions.  
  
"Oh God, Ty!" she gasped as he began to remove her stockings, smiling widely as he did so. He kissed her thighs, licking his way up and down her legs until she was completely naked.  
  
Standing up, he picked her up and carried her to the bed. Laying her down, he removed the last of his clothes, revealing his prominent erection. Dill pulled him down onto the bed and turned her attentions to his cock. Her tongue gently swirling around the sensitive head, flicking in and out of the slit, before she began to lick his length with long slow licks, making him writhe underneath her as she sucked him completely into her mouth. Sucking harder, she soon had him bucking his hips. Before he realised, she had inserted a finger inside him and was stroking his prostate, sending him into a burst of wild thrusting and bucking upwards into her mouth as he came, crying out, unable to stop himself.  
  
"I told you," he gasped, his breathing ragged. "I said I wouldn't last long."  
  
"That's okay," Dill smiled, snuggling up to him, her hands stroking up and down his body from his chest to his legs. "It won't be long before I have you ready to go again."  
  
"Oh god, Dill, yes," Ty groaned as her hand began very gently to stroke his cock.  
  
"See?" she giggled, as he grew under her hand. "And if I do this," he gasped as she firmly, but gently, began to pump him, "you'll be begging me to let you fuck me in next to no time."  
  
Grabbing hold of Dill, Ty flipped them over so that he was on top of her. Bending his head, he began to lavish attention on her breasts, sucking and gently nipping at her nipples until they stood hard and firm. One hand he slowly danced down her body to her hot centre. Slipping a finger inside her, he began to thrust, matching his thrusts to the thrusts of his tongue in her mouth as he moved from her breasts to kissing her mouth deeply, tasting every inch of it.  
  
Once Dill was moaning and squirming beneath him, he removed his fingers, and positioning his hard cock at her entrance, slid into her in one long smooth thrust. They lay, joined, kissing for a few moments before he began to slowly thrust himself in and out of her. He moved gently at first, but as she began to thrust her hips upwards to meet his thrusts, faster, until, with her urging him on, he let go completely and within seconds was pounding into her for all he was worth, gripping her shoulders to stop her from moving as he thrust hard and fast inside her.  
  
"Go on, Ty!" she urged him. "Harder... faster... you know you can do it!"  
  
His final few thrusts had the headboard banging against the wall as he pounded himself into her, both of them crying out as Dill came. Her muscles tightened around him, pulling him over, and making him lose himself in the sensations of his own climax before he collapsed on top of her, his chest heaving with the effort to breathe.  
  
They lay, Ty wrapped in Dill's arms and legs, until he softened and slipped out of her. Only then did they rearrange themselves, until finally, with Dill wrapped in his arms, they fell asleep, content and happy. Dill smiled as she realised that not once had he even mentioned condoms.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
He was woken by a voice in his ear. "Daddy, are you sleeping?"  
  
Rolling over, he saw Cameron standing there, his doll clutched firmly under his arm.  
  
"Hey, little guy," Ty smiled. "I'm awake. What's up?"  
  
"Can I get in bed with you?" Cameron asked quietly, his blue eyes wide.  
  
"Sure you can,"his father smiled, lifting the sheet.  
  
"I'm wet," came the plaintive reply. "I took my nappy off when it was dark and now my bajamas are wet."  
  
"Take your pj's off then, and get in."  
  
"Mummy makes me a bath," his father was told.  
  
With a sigh, Ty asked, "Do you want to get into bed with me and mommy, or do you want a bath?"  
  
"A bath, with you daddy." Cameron smiled happily at him.  
  
Getting out of bed, Ty grinned at his young son.  
  
"Where's Hamish?"  
  
"He's sleeping," was the answer he got. "Daddy, where are your bajamas?"  
  
"I forgot them," his father improvised quickly. "Come on, let's get you out of those wet things and we'll go take a bath. Or do you fancy a shower?"  
  
"I don't like showers," Cameron whispered as his father pulled his pyjamas top off.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"The water gets in my face," Ty was told, as Cameron sat down to pull off his pyjama pants.  
  
"Well, how about if I hold you up like this?" his father asked, picking the now naked boy up in his arms. "And then I can make sure you don't get all the water in your face."  
  
"But Cashus will get wet," Cameron said worriedly as Ty carried him into the bathroom.  
  
"Cashus?" Ty asked the boy, puzzled.  
  
Cameron shoved the doll in his face. "Cashus."  
  
"Your doll's name is Cashus?"  
  
"Mummy said he should have a name," Cameron nodded.  
  
"But why Cashus?"  
  
"I wanted to call him your name. Mummy said your name was Cashus." Cameron said simply. "I don't like your funny name."  
  
Realization dawned. "Ah... Cassius. You named him Cassius. Why don't you like Tyrus?"  
  
"Because I like Cashus." Cameron sighed as if his father was a half-wit.  
  
"Of course. Sorry." McQueen grinned. "So Cassius can sit on the side here, while we take our shower. And I'll make sure you don't get water in your face, ok?"  
  
"Ok," Cameron smiled.  
  
~~~  
  
Dill lay in bed smiling. She'd woken to the sound of laughter and singing coming from the bathroom, and now lay listening to Cameron trying to teach his father the words to Incy Wincey Spider. Ty was pretending he couldn't remember them, making Cameron howl with laughter as he sang the wrong words.  
  
"No, daddy. Climbs up the spout, not the sprout!" Cameron laughed. "You silly!"  
  
"You said sprout," came the reply, in a mock serious tone.  
  
"No daddy, spout. Incy Wincey climbs up the spout again."  
  
"Come on, let's dry off and go get into bed. Shall we wake mommy up and get her to make us a drink?"  
  
"And a biscuit?" Cameron asked hopefully.  
  
"Definitely a biscuit."  
  
"And one for Cashus?"  
  
"Yep, one for Cassius too."  
  
"No, daddy. You're saying it wrong. Cashus, not Cassius!"  
  
"Sorry. Cashus. Come on then. Grab Cashus and let's go wake up mommy."  
  
"Mummy is awake!" Cameron yelled as he ran back into the bedroom and clambered up onto the bed. "A drink, mummy, and a biscuit. For Cashus, too!"  
  
"Good morning, my lover," his mother smiled. "Where's my hug?"  
  
Cameron climbed into her arms and hugged her. "Mummy, did you forget your bajamas too?"  
  
McQueen grinned at Dill. She poked her tongue out at him.  
  
"No, my lover. That silly daddy lost them for me."  
  
Cameron turned to look at his father, who stood in the doorway wearing a towel around his waist. "Did you look in your trousers?"  
  
"What?" McQueen asked, puzzled.  
  
"When Hamish loses his blanket, it's in his trousers," Cameron told him.  
  
"No, Cameron, mommy's pyjamas aren't in my trousers." Ty chuckled.  
  
"Come on then, Ty. Get back into bed. We can have a snug before I go and make us a drink," Dill told him.  
  
While they lay there snuggled together, Hamish appeared.  
  
"Izzy," he told them. "Crying."  
  
"I'll get her," Ty told Dill. "You go put the kettle on. I'm ready for some coffee." He pulled a pair of sweatpants from the dresser drawer, and pulling them on, went to get Isobel.  
  
Dill got of bed and wrapped her robe around her. "Okay, boys, juice and a biscuit coming up. No jumping on the bed or you'll break the ceiling."  
  
Dill was in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil when Ty appeared, Isobel hugged on one hip.  
  
"What does she have?" he asked, tickling her under her chin, making her chuckle.  
  
"Juice, like the boys. Sit her in her chair. She'll be fine. She's placid little thing, like Cameron was at this age."  
  
"I never saw Cameron at this age," Ty said with a sigh, as he sat Isobel in her seat.  
  
"Never mind, sweetie," Dill told him absently as she poured boiling water onto the ground coffee.  
  
"Cameron's speech is really good. It surprised me," he told her as she handed him a beaker for Isobel.  
  
"I know. The contrast with Hamish is stunning. Cameron has twice the vocabulary that Hamish does. But then Hamish has the muscles. It seems like neither got both."  
  
"We had a real conversation,"Ty said as he rummaged in the cupboard for biscuits. Finding them, he handed one to Isobel.  
  
"I heard the pair of you singing in the shower," Dill told him.  
  
"He called that doll Cashus. Why didn't you correct him?" he asked, helping Isobel hold her cup properly.  
  
"Because he couldn't pronounce Cassius at the time. And anyway, Cashus is fine. Here, take the boys beakers and some biscuits. I'll take mother a cup of coffee."  
  
"And who's going to look after Isobel?"  
  
"You are. Take her with you and I'll bring our coffee when I've given mother hers. Did you do Isobel's nappy?"  
  
"Yes, I changed her diaper. A bit different from the little guys." Ty smiled, picking Isobel up from the chair, grateful that the boys' cups not only had lids, but handles too, as he juggled them around so he could hold his daughter.  
  
"Could that be because she's a girl and they're boys?" Dill quipped. "Now shoo! Take the boys their drinks and send Hamish to the loo. Both of them are out of nappies, just, but Hamish needs reminding. A lot."  
  
"Cameron was wet. He'd taken his diaper off. That's why we had a shower," her husband called back over his shoulder as he left he room.  
  
"Thank goodness for waterproof sheets," Dill called after him.  
  
When she arrived back in the bedroom with the coffee, Ty had tied the sheet to the bedposts to make a tent, and was busily engaged in building a 'camp' for the boys with the pillows.  
  
"Honestly, Ty! You're nothing more than a big kid yourself!" she laughed. "Come out of there and have your coffee."  
  
"Daddy, no!" Hamish wailed as his father slid out from under the sheet.  
  
"Go on, guys. You can make a nest with the pillows, but don't let Isobel fall out of the bed," he told them, taking his coffee and sitting on the sofa at the end of the bed. "I can't believe how much they've changed in eight months. I mean, I can understand what they're saying to me."  
  
"Well, children do learn to speak, Ty. It happens," Dill told him, grinning.  
  
"I know that, foolish woman," he chuckled, hugging her to him. "But I mean, they're still babies, really. But Cameron speaks like a little adult.  
  
"Well, children develop their speech at different rates. Cameron does have an exceptional vocabulary and he understands what he's saying. But poor old Hamish... well, sometimes he gets so frustrated with me that he tells Cameron to tell me," Dill said. "But it'll come eventually."  
  
"Whatever you say, Dill. I'm impressed." Ty told her, sipping his coffee.  
  
"Oh, you're easily impressed, flyboy. Just remember to watch what you say around them. They will repeat it. And you can expect Cameron to tell everyone that he saw you naked. Probably when you least expect it. Or, more likely, he'll announce to the world that you have a penis."  
  
Ty stared at her. "He wouldn't?"  
  
"Of course he will. Just like he told the girl at the checkout in the supermarket that mummy has breasts to feed Isobel," Dill grinned. "And he'd obviously heard me talking to Iona because he told her that daddy likes them too!"  
  
"Oh my god," her husband whispered, horrified.  
  
"That's children for you, Ty. They'll tell the world your darkest secrets if you're not careful. You wouldn't believe some of the things I heard when I was working. We had parents that I couldn't look in the eye because of what their children had casually announced."  
  
"You're not working there anymore?"  
  
"Do you even read the letters I send you? Or do you just eat the biscuits and bin the rest?" Dill asked, slapping him on the arm. "How can I keep working? You keep getting me pregnant!"  
  
"Boys, save me! Mommy's smacking me!" Ty yelped.  
  
Two blonde heads appeared from under the sheet.  
  
"Bad mummy," Hamish told her sternly.  
  
"No smacking!" Cameron announced with a frown.  
  
"See? The little guys are on my side," he smirked. "But you're not pregnant now. You could work."  
  
"You contrary swine! Last year it was all 'why do you have to work? I want you to stay home with the boys. Now you do want me to work! What's up? Are we draining your bank account too fast?"  
  
"No" Ty said seriously. "You know that where you and the children are concerned, money isn't a consideration. I just meant that you said you needed to work, for your own sanity. But now you're not."  
  
"Well, now I have three children to look after, Ty. I don't seem to have time to work too." Dill sighed.  
  
There was a tap at the door and Moira came in.  
  
"It sounded like you were all up and about. How about some breakfast?" she asked.  
  
"Gamma!" Hamish yelled, seeing her. "Look Daddy's tent!"  
  
"Clever daddy," his grandmother smiled.  
  
"Can I have an egg, grandma?" Cameron asked, smiling at her.  
  
"Of course you can, my darling," Moira told him. "But you need to put some clothes on. Where are your pyjamas?"  
  
"I wet them," Cameron said, grinning. "Daddy showered me, and he didn't get my face all wetted!"  
  
"Oh, definitely clever daddy then," Moira grinned, smiling at Ty. "Come on then, chaps - who's for toast?"  
  
"Me, gamma!" Hamish cried, climbing off the bed. "And Izzy. Izzy likes toast!"  
  
"Pancakes, grandma. Can we have pancakes too?" Cameron asked as he slid off the edge of the bed.  
  
"Yes, of course you can, my sweet. Now where's that Izzy hiding? "  
  
"In the tent, grandma," Cameron told her as he ran from the room, Hamish at his heels.  
  
Moira looked at Dill and Ty. "I'll feed the children, and then I'll make us some breakfast. That should give you two time to shower or bath." She raised an eyebrow at them. "Or whatever." She picked up Isobel and headed out of the door, calling to the boys, "To the kitchen, chaps!"  
  
"Izzy?"  
  
"I know," Dill groaned. "I tried to stop her, but now the boys call her it, too!"  
  
"I quite like it," Ty smiled, putting his empty cup on the floor by the sofa.  
  
"You would!" Grabbing a pillow from the bed, Dill hit him with it. "There are no boys here to save you now, McQueen!"  
  
"I don't need them to save me." He jumped up from the sofa and grabbed a pillow of his own.  
  
They were busily engaged jumping on the bed, hitting each other in a full on pillow fight, when a small voice spoke, "Mummy, you said jumping on the bed would break the ceiling." It was Cameron, frowning at them.  
  
The grownups stopped in mid fight, clutching their pillows to them, both of them looking sheepish at being caught.  
  
"Yes, I did, didn't I? Sorry, Cameron,"Dill said, trying to hide her grin.  
  
"Is daddy making you jump on the bed?" Cameron frowned at Ty.  
  
"Yes, my lover, he is," Dill said. "He's a bad daddy. We have to teach him not to do naughty things, don't we?"  
  
"No jumping on the bed, daddy!" Cameron told him, wagging his finger at him.  
  
"Sorry, Cameron,"his father said contritely. "Shall we go and get some pancakes?"  
  
Cameron nodded as Ty jumped down off the bed.  
  
"Want a pick up?" he asked, throwing the pillow back onto the bed.  
  
At Cameron's wide grin, he hoisted him up. "Come on. Let's go before mommy breaks the ceiling."  
  
The pillow Dill threw landed on the floor behind him as he slipped through the door, laughing.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~ 


	2. 2

2.  
  
After spending a week's leave with Dill and the children, McQueen was headed back to the Space Carrier USS Saratoga with his squad. His 'kids' were excited about their promotions, but McQueen himself was worried about the consequences. He knew that as a squadron they were unrivalled. But would the Corps keep a squad of higher ranked officers together? He was going to have to come up with some damn good reasons to do so. McQueen smiled to himself. Of course it helped having Commodore Glen Ross on his side. Not only was he Commodore of the Saratoga, but he was also McQueen's best friend.  
  
McQueen sat on the transport, watching as the squad chatted excitedly, telling each other about their leave. He smiled as Hawkes engaged his whole body in telling West about how Vansen had taken him to the west coast with her, and introduced him to surfing. He caught Vansen's eye as she glanced around the transport.  
  
"I take it he enjoyed himself?" McQueen asked, as Hawkes climbed onto his seat to demonstrate his moves.  
  
"Well, let's just say that if Iona wants to spend his leaves with him, she's gonna have to learn to surf. He's a natural. Within a couple of hours he was up on his board. He's hooked," Vansen told him. "But what about you, sir? Did you have a good leave?"  
  
"Yes," he smiled. "It was good seeing the children. Spending time with them. They've grown so much since I last saw them. I see them born, and then it seems next time I see them, they're walking and talking. No doubt next time I see Isobel she'll be walking too."  
  
"She's such a sweetie, sir," Damphousse joined in. "And the boys are, too. Hamish is just adorable."  
  
"He's not speaking as well as Cameron," he told them seriously. "Dill says that's normal, that he'll catch up. He's stronger than Cameron though, and much bigger."  
  
The two women looked at each other and then at him, smiling indulgently.  
  
"What?" he asked them.  
  
"You, sir," Damphousse smiled. "Having a family has changed you. Dylan has been good for you, sir, and you make a great father. You're so good with those boys."  
  
"Yes," Vansen agreed. "You've relaxed much more. You used to be so uptight all the time. Constantly on guard, and really prickly. But these days, since you met Dylan, you're much less so. Of course, you're still the hard-nosed CO we've come to know and love. And we wouldn't have you any other way, sir," she hastily added at his frown. "But you're a much more relaxed, hard-nosed CO."  
  
"There's a compliment in there somewhere, sir," Damphousse laughed.  
  
"I think maybe there is," he smiled. "Thank you, Vansen."  
  
McQueen settled himself in his seat, watching Hawkes, still standing on his seat demonstrating his moves. The two women, realising he wanted a little private time, chatted quietly together, smiling when they saw that he'd fallen asleep.  
  
Hearing him softly snoring, Vansen and Damphousse enlisted Hawkes' help in carefully moving their leader to a bunk, where he instantly settled himself more comfortably. For a moment the three stood and watched him, grins on their faces.  
  
"He's tired," Damphousse smiled.  
  
"Yeah. So would you be if you'd just spent a week with three kids and a wife who hasn't seen you in eight months!" West laughed from his seat further down the transport. "Who wants to bet that kid number four arrives in nine months?"  
  
"Stop it," Vansen warned. "Come on - let's leave him in peace."  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
McQueen awoke as he was thrown against a bulkhead. He could hear swearing and cursing as he rolled over to pull himself out of the bunk.  
  
"Strap in back there!" yelled the pilot. "We've landed in an asteroid field!"  
  
"How the hell did we end up here?" called back Vansen, scrambling forward.  
  
"No time!"  
  
The ISSAPC jerked and rolled sharply to port as an asteroid caught it amidships near where McQueen stood. He headed forward to the seats to strap in.  
  
A sudden snap to the starboard side flung McQueen against the bunks. An arm up to protect his head, he bounced off the bunks and grabbed out for anything that would keep him from being tossed around more. He latched onto a bunkbed upright, holding it with both hands. Forward of him, McQueen heard Hawkes swearing hard and saw him curl up into a ball before hitting the bulkhead.  
  
"Kill the speed!" came a yell from the cockpit.  
  
The transport was spun around as an asteroid hit its rear.  
  
The ominous hiss of escaping air reached McQueen and he spotted papers headed for a small hole punched in the hull back by the cargo. Grabbing a metal clipboard, he ran to the rear and slammed it over the hole, holding it in place.  
  
"Get me some duct tape!" he bellowed. "We're holed!"  
  
West scrambled to his side, frantically pulling duct tape off a roll, tearing it with his teeth. "Dammit! I don't know how much of this the ship can take. She's not built to handle asteroids." "I want to know how we ended up in an asteroid field in the first place." McQueen rubbed the tape that West put down along one side while continuing to hold the other side in place. As West ran tape around the other three sides, McQueen glanced around, seeing the cargo containers shifting in their straps. "Hurry up, West. I don't...."  
  
Things happened fast. A resounding crash assaulted his ears and the transport pitched to the side, throwing him and West against the newly taped wall. The sound of metal stressed to it's breaking point filled the cargo area, followed immediately by a sharp twang as the metal cargo straps broke under the sudden increase in weight of the containers. Five large metal boxes slid across the deck.  
  
"Colonel!" screamed Hawkes.  
  
"Shit!" was all McQueen and West had time to think before the boxes slammed into them.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
"Easy, Colonel. We've got you. Don't move," cautioned Damphousse as McQueen stirred.  
  
A groan tore its way loose as his head began to pound. He tried to raise a hand to his head only to have someone hold it down.  
  
"Just a moment, colonel. We need to check you out." Damphousse touched his cheek gently. "We just finished digging you out."  
  
"How's West?" McQueen opened his eyes, wincing in the light, closing them when he realized he was seeing double.  
  
"Hurt. Vansen's looking him over right now."  
  
"What the hell happened? How did we end up in an asteroid field?" He wanted some answers. Pain started to radiate from his right leg.  
  
Hawkes' voice spoke, getting closer, finally ending up right beside Damphousse's.  
  
"Thompson says the computer glitched, dumped us out of the wormhole early. We barrelled into the field at top speed. Fortunately there's a watch station in the system. A transport's already on the way for us to transfer to, and they'll tow this one back. We completely lost one of the engines, and the other one is pretty banged up."  
  
"Hawkes, would you go sit with Nathan?" asked Vansen.  
  
"Sure."  
  
"So, how's West?" McQueen felt a gentle hand rolling his head from side to side.  
  
"Concussion, broken ribs, bruised arm, broken fingers, bruises up and down his body. Open your eyes one at a time, sir."  
  
He obeyed, shutting them again afterwards.  
  
"Does the light hurt?"  
  
"Yes. And I'm seeing double."  
  
"Concussion to go with the nasty bump and cut on your head. Can you wiggle your fingers? Good. Now for your ribs."  
  
He hissed as she probed his right side.  
  
"They're not broken. I think they're just badly bruised. Ok, how about your toes? Can you feel them?"  
  
"The ones on the left. But the thigh aches."  
  
Her hands moved down and felt around his left thigh. "Bruised, I think. Doesn't feel broken. How about the other leg?"  
  
"Thigh feels as bad as the other one. The knee really hurts. But I'm getting some odd feedback from the artificial leg, as if the foot weren't there."  
  
"Let's get the boot off then and see the damage." As the two women worked, Vansen continued. "Sir, your right lower leg was pinned down under a box. It took all of us to move it."  
  
"Damn. That means there's damage to the circuits." He gritted his teeth as an inadvertent move shifted his knee. "Ok, upgrade the feeling in the knee to excruciating."  
  
"Sorry, sir."  
  
He heard one of the women inhale sharply. "Ok, how bad is it?"  
  
Vansen's voice came softly. "Sir, the foot.... it's been sheared off."  
  
"Shit."  
  
"'Phousse, inform the pilot we need to arrange transportation back to Earth for the colonel."  
  
"On my way."  
  
"Sir," Vansen spoke quietly. "Think of it as a chance to see Dylan and the kids again."  
  
"At least there's one bright spot. I'm definitely not looking forward to the surgery to replace the damn leg. Or the bloody rehab as I learn to use the new one with all of its little quirks. Hell."  
  
"Try not to move too much, sir." Vansen left him alone.  
  
He lay, rather surprised that what he felt wasn't the misery and desolation of the last time he'd lost his leg, but anger at the inconvenience of it. He was, he realised, quite happy at the prospect of heading back to Earth. This time he had his family to be there with him. It would be a totally different experience to the last time, and certainly a much pleasanter one, he was sure. Despite the surgery and rehab.  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
To his surprise, when he finally arrived back at Loxley, after a fair amount of being shuffled from one transport to another, he found himself being loaded onto a private ambulance with a nurse.  
  
"What the hell's going on?" he asked as she checked his leg over thoroughly. "Where are we going?"  
  
She smiled at him. "Relax Colonel McQueen. Are you in much pain?"  
  
"Some," he admitted, wincing as her fingers probed his knee.  
  
"Take these," she told him, handing him two pills. "They'll ease the pain. And don't worry - they're safe for invitros."  
  
"You didn't answer my question," he told her after swallowing the pills dry.  
  
"We're going to Mobile. Dr. Ashbourne is flying in to see you. He's a specialist in artificial limbs, and judging by the damage to yours, he'll be replacing your foot," she told him as she strapped him in securely for the journey.  
  
"Dr Ashbourne? He's not the guy who fitted my leg. The name's not familiar." he replied.  
  
"I seriously doubt it! "his nurse snorted. "The military wouldn't pay out for a doctor of his calibre. I'm sure they have good doctors, but he's top of his field. And you certainly won't get an Aerotech leg."  
  
"So how come he's coming to see me?" he asked, puzzled.  
  
"How am I supposed to know that? I'm a nurse, not a psychic!" she laughed. "But be glad that he is, and pray your bank balance is up to it. He doesn't come cheap."  
  
McQueen lay back. The painkillers were making him sleepy, and he needed to think.  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
The next time he woke up, McQueen was in a bright sunny room and Dill sat in a chair next to the bed, reading a book.  
  
"Hey, Dill," he whispered.  
  
"Hey, handsome," she grinned. "What have you done to yourself? Couldn't get enough of me, eh? Had to find some way to spend some more time with me?"  
  
Ty smiled at her. "Yeah. Losing my leg seemed like a good idea at the time."  
  
"At least you're laughing about it," she said, kissing his forehead. "Want me to help you sit up?"  
  
"Yes, please," he answered. As she helped him upright and adjusted the bed head for him, he asked, "So, where is here?"  
  
"Here? A private clinic in Mobile. There's a very nice doctor who's going to sort your leg out for you," she told him, sitting herself on the bed next to him. "Are you okay, Ty? Really? Other than the leg, I mean."  
  
Seeing the worry on her face made his heart leap. "Of course I am, Dill. A bit of a concussion, and I expect I'm purple under these..."he looked down at himself, "... pyjamas. Where the hell did these come from?" he asked, horror in his voice.  
  
"Sorry," Dill laughed. "Cameron chose them. I tried to tell him you wouldn't want bananas on your pyjamas, but...." She shrugged.  
  
"Cameron knew what he wanted to buy," McQueen groaned. "They're awful, Dill. Really awful!"  
  
"I know, my love. But don't tell Cameron that, will you? Wait till you see the ones Hamish chose!" She grinned. "Camels!"  
  
Ty lay back against the pillows and closed his eyes. "Camels? God help me! Why did you take the boys with you? I'm glad Izzy's not old enough to choose - no doubt I'd be wearing flowers."  
  
"What you have to understand, my darling, is that Cameron has been fixated on the fact that you don't have any pyjamas. So when I told them that you were poorly and had to spend time in hospital, he was worried about the pyjamas, and insisted that we buy you some." At his glare, she laughed. "Oh, come on, Ty. Bananas in Pyjamas. He loves the song - you know he does. I'm telling you, though, I've never had such a frantic shopping trip. I left Izzy with mother, and the boys and I went shopping. We only had a few hours to do it in, too."  
  
"But camels and bananas? What the hell will people think?" he groaned.  
  
"Well, tell them. Say your two-year-old sons chose them. Come on, Ty. Take it like a man!" she laughed.  
  
"You don't have to be seen in them in public," Ty told her grumpily.  
  
"Oh, stop behaving like a child!" she told him crossly. "The boys were so excited at what they'd chosen. Don't you dare spoil it for them. I'll buy you some plain ones, if you're that embarrassed!"  
  
"It's okay. I guess I'm stuck with them," he grumbled. "Tell me, how's West? Do you know?"  
  
"Yes, you're stuck with those pyjamas, my love, and no I don't know how Nathan is. I'll try and find out for you, okay?" Dill smiled, ruffling his hair, then laughed as he pulled his head away from her and gave her his best 'McQueen' glare. "Now, be a good boy and go back to sleep. The doctor will be around to see you later."  
  
"I'm not tired. Tell me, who is this doctor? I've never heard of him." Ty asked her.  
  
"He's a friend of mother's. Remember she said she'd been reading up on artificial limbs?" He nodded. "Well, mother's version of 'reading up on' means that for the past year she's been in contact with this chap. He's the top of the heap when it comes to artificial limbs. It turns out that they've been chatting away happily discussing legs, arms, feet and the like. So when we heard that you were coming back after an accident to your leg, she was on the phone in a flash. He's based in London, and he's flown out here as a favour to mother."  
  
"The nurse said he's expensive,"he told her warily, watching her face to see if she'd get cross with him.  
  
"And I'd begrudge spending money on getting your leg fixed?" Dill glared at him. "Anyway, he's not charging a penny. He's been trying to get mother to work with him in his London clinic, and up until now she's always said no. It' a trade - he'll fix your leg and she'll work with him two days a week."  
  
"She's doing that for me?" he asked quietly.  
  
"Yes, she is. Despite herself, she likes you. And after all, you're father to the grandchildren she adores, not to mention the love of her daughter's life." Dill laughed, reaching to hug him. "Don't let her know that you know. She's still trying to pretend that she doesn't like you. You're part of her family now, Ty, and mother looks after her own."  
  
"It would seem so," he smiled. "Mind you,"Dill frowned, "it does mean she'll be doing the cosmetic work on your leg. You don't mind, do you?"  
  
The door opened and a tall, dark haired man in a pin stripe suit and small round glasses came in unnoticed by the two on the bed; this was the doctor they'd been waiting for.  
  
"No, of course not. Though I'm not looking forward to a new leg. The rehab was a bitch last time." McQueen sighed.  
  
The tall man stepped forward, "Colonel McQueen?" at Ty's nod he grinned "Henry Ashbourne. I'm not replacing the whole leg, just the foot from the ankle down. The rest of the leg appears undamaged, so why replace the whole thing? Of course, it won't be the same," he peered at McQueen over the top of his glasses. "It'll be much better. I'm not using that Aerotech rubbish, but a far superior design. Much easier for the nerves in your knee to deal with - less stress on them, more 'user friendly' I believe you Americans say." He smiled again. "We'll have you up and running in next to no time." The doctor frowned. "Well, not actually running per se. Not for at least six weeks. But certainly up, with crutches after a day or so, and no rehab. What a quaint word,"he grinned. "You'll hardly need any. You already know how to walk, and I'm only connecting the foot to the existing leg. You'll be chasing those children of yours around before you know it. Sound okay?"he asked. "And, ah... nice pyjamas."  
  
"Sounds fine," McQueen mumbled, damning the pyjamas. "Thank you."  
  
"Oh, no thanks needed, I assure you. After all, what's a small favour for a friend? And I'm damned lucky to finally get Moira working with me. She'll make your leg look good. I've been trying to get her to work with me for months. Shame it took this to persuade her."  
  
With that, he turned and left the room, leaving them staring after him.  
  
"What an odd man," Dill finally said.  
  
"He did seem a little odd, yes," McQueen agreed. "I'm exhausted just listening to him."  
  
"Right then, off to sleep for a bit, and I'll bring the children to see you later, okay?" she said, kissing his forehead.  
  
"No, Dill," he told her, pulling her head down. "A proper kiss."  
  
"For you, my love, anything. Anything at all." she laughed, kissing him thoroughly.  
  
"Anything?" he asked, a twinkle in his eye.  
  
Dill shook her head. "Honestly, Ty, you have a one track mind! Later, if that's what you really want," she told him. "After I've put the children to bed, I'll come back and see you. If this door locks, maybe you can persuade me."  
  
"Not now, then?" he asked hopefully.  
  
"And you tell me I'm insatiable!" she laughed. "No, Ty, not now. Go to sleep. I think you'll be needing the rest."  
  
"I'm not tired"he complained. "And I'm not a child either, so stop talking to me like you talk to the children."  
  
"Then stop acting like one," she told him firmly. "At least try and get some sleep. I think once the new foot is attached, they'll have you up and walking about as soon as possible. Make the most of it now. Sleep."  
  
"Ok, ok, I'll try,"he grumbled. "But I'm telling you, Dill, I'm not tired at all." He settled himself against the pillows and closed his eyes.  
  
She waited until she was sure he was asleep, which despite his protestations wasn't long, then adjusted his headboard to lay him flat. Then with a final kiss to his forehead, she left him to sleep.  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
When he awoke, the blinds had been drawn, keeping out the worst of the sun's late afternoon glare. This time it was Moira sitting with him.  
  
"Awake at last," she smiled. "Dylan said you were complaining that you weren't tired. Well, you certainly slept long enough."  
  
"Sorry,"Ty grinned, sitting up. "I must have been more tired than I realised."  
  
"I think so," she smiled. "So, how are you feeling?"  
  
"Fine, though I could get bored very quickly. I'm glad Dill's bringing the children in to see me," Ty paused, not sure quite how to say what he wanted to say. "Thank you, Moira." He decided a full frontal approach was best. "Thank you for doing this for me. You really didn't have to."  
  
"Yes, I did, TC. You're family. I do the best for my family, always. Anyway, I've been dying to get my hands on that knee of yours," Moira smiled. "You'll not notice the scars when I get finished. And of course Henry Ashbourne jumped at the chance to help. He's been desperate to get me working with him, so he's doing it as a favour."  
  
"But all this," he indicated the room. "It's a private clinic. They don't come cheap."  
  
"Think of it as a late wedding gift." At his frown, Moira continued. "I know we only recently came to understand each other, TC, but you are my son- in-law, and I didn't get you a wedding present, so this is it. And it's better than a toaster, even if it is late."  
  
"It's too much, Moira," he said quietly.  
  
"No, TC, it's not. It's not enough. I know that I made Dylan's life hell when she married you. I'm hoping that this will at least atone for some of that. Not all, but some."  
  
"It's water under the bridge." Ty told her.  
  
"Not to Dylan, it isn't," she said softly. "Dylan will hold it against me for a very long time."  
  
"She won't. That's not her style," he smiled.  
  
"Oh yes, it is, TC. You've still got a lot to learn about our Dylan. When she holds a grudge, boy does she hold one. And to make matters worse, I upset her over you. That'll take a long time for her to get over. She's very protective of you. You may not have noticed it, but she is. She'd defend you to the death, if necessary, and I'm not being dramatic here. She's always been like it, even as a child. Once she's given her friendship, made her allegiance, that's it. She'll stand by your side for life. Nothing short of deliberate betrayal will sway her. She loves you and that's it. She's yours, and you are hers. Understand that well. You are hers and no one else's, ever. She'll never leave you, betray you with another man, or deliberately do anything to hurt you. She'll fight for you." Moira frowned. "What's the phrase you use? She'll 'watch your six' always, and defend you against anyone who threatens you. You don't realise how lightly Amy got off when she hit you. For Dylan, when it comes to you and the children, there is no grey. There is only black and white. You are her family, and no one messes with her family and gets away with it." At his startled look, she laughed. "Are you seriously telling me you didn't know?"  
  
"I never really thought about it," he admitted. "Oh, I know Dill loves me. I know she'd never play around with anyone else when I'm not around. And yes, I know I'm not around often enough. But I never looked at it from her point of view." He grinned. "Of course I feel the same way. If anyone touched Dill or the kids, I'd hunt them down."  
  
Moira smiled. "You may laugh, TC, but I'm serious. She won't smother you, but you'll always know she's there, in the background. I believe she would have made a good soldier. She fights for what she believes in, without a second thought."  
  
"That I know," he said more seriously. "She's had to fight me several times. Once, before she had the boys, she actually hit me. Knocked me right off my feet, she was so angry with me." At Moira's steady gaze, he blushed. "I doubted her love for me. That's what it came down to, and we were still dealing with it recently. She's fought me for four years, and she's won every time. She doesn't have to fight me anymore. I don't doubt her. Not at all. Not now. It took time, but I finally accepted she's mine for life," he grinned. "And I couldn't be happier."  
  
"Good for you," Moira smiled. "Now then,"she glanced at her watch, "Dylan will be here soon with the children. Can I get you anything? Some new pyjamas, perhaps?" she laughed.  
  
"Not you, too!" he groaned. "Cameron chose them."  
  
"I know. He's been worrying himself that you didn't have any. He worries a lot. Lord knows where he gets it from. He's very insecure." She stared at McQueen appraisingly. "You. He gets it from you," she sighed. "Well, let's just hope that it passes. Do you know he asked me if you went away because he'd been bad? Show him differently, TC. Hamish can handle being left out. Cameron can't."  
  
"But I haven't left him out," he said, puzzled.  
  
"To him you have," Moira said. "Before Izzy was born, you'd go and get him up in the mornings. This time it was Izzy you went to get."  
  
"But Cameron got himself up. He came in with us in the mornings," Ty told her.  
  
"That doesn't matter, not to him. What he sees is you getting out of bed, leaving him, to go and get Izzy. You want Izzy, not him," she told him gently. "Or at least that's how he sees it. He's only just over two, remember."  
  
McQueen slumped back into his pillows. "I never thought of it like that," he sighed. "I'm doing it again, aren't I? What is it with Cameron and me? First the whole separation thing, and now this. It's happening again!"  
  
"I think it's because emotionally he's very like you. Even though they're twins, it's Cameron who looks and acts most like you. No doubt he's what you would have been like as a small child." Moira smiled at his glare. "I mean it, TC. You just admitted it's taken you this long to really believe Dylan loves you, and you're a grown man who should know better. How must it be for Cameron? Just as he's beginning to feel that you do love him after all, off you go again, for goodness knows how long, and he thinks it's his fault."  
  
"It's too much Moira. I can't do it again," Ty whispered.  
  
"Yes, you can, and you will," she told him firmly. "You have to. For his sake and for Dylan's."  
  
Before she could say anything else, the door opened and in ran Cameron and Hamish, followed by Dill pushing Isobel, asleep in her buggy.  
  
"Hey boys!" Ty smiled as Hamish clambered up onto the bed. "Need a hand, little guy?" he asked Cameron, who stood thumb in mouth, looking at him.  
  
"Hello gorgeous," Dill grinned, parking the buggy and going to him for a kiss. "These monsters were desperate to see their daddy. I asked about Nathan for you. He's fine, Ty. They took him to the 'Toga's sickbay. He'll be up and about in a day or two."  
  
"Thanks Dill. Coming up, Cameron?" he asked again after Dill had kissed him. "I need a kiss from you too."  
  
Cameron nodded slowly and reached his arms up. McQueen reached over and lifted him onto the bed.  
  
"Well, where's my kiss from my boy?" he asked. Cameron grinned and planted a soft, wet kiss on his cheek.  
  
"Me!" Hamish exclaimed. "Kisses for daddy!"  
  
"Come on then," he laughed, as Hamish gave him several wet sloppy kisses. "I'll get better in next to no time with all these lovely kisses."  
  
McQueen was sitting in the bed with Cameron snuggled up close to one side of him and Hamish on the other, while Dill and Moira sat in chairs chuckling, when Dr Ashbourne opened the door and came in.  
  
"Ah, I see the family have arrived," he smiled. "My, these boys are like you. Twins I assume. Well, come on then, let's have a look at this foot." He turned to Dill. "Perhaps you'd better take the children out for a moment. Oh my, another one asleep there in the buggy. A girl. My, she looks like her mother."  
  
"The boys can stay," McQueen assured him. "They need to get used to the idea that I have an artificial leg. It's not gruesome, so let then see it."  
  
Dr Ashbourne nodded. "Ah, I see. Well, let's look at it then." Lifting the covers, he stood and stared for so long that both boys scooted down the bed to see what he was looking at.  
  
"Where's daddy's foot?" Cameron asked, puzzled.  
  
"Gone," Hamish told him. He reached to touch what remained of the leg, now stripped of it's covering and very obviously metallic.  
  
"Ah, no touching boys," Dr Ashbourne told them. "No touching till I've mended it. We don't want to hurt daddy, do we?"  
  
"No," Cameron told him, his eyes wide at the thought of hurting his daddy.  
  
"Daddy's foot?" Hamish asked.  
  
"It's broken Hamish," McQueen told him. "I'm going to get a new one."  
  
"New foot?" Hamish asked puzzled, looking at his own sun browned, sandaled foot.  
  
"Ah, yes, a new foot," Dr Ashbourne told him. "Want to see it?"  
  
"Yes!" Hamish yelled, standing on the bed. "Daddy's new foot!"  
  
Cameron, thumb back in his mouth, simply nodded.  
  
"Wait here, I'll go and get it." Ashbourne smiled.  
  
"New foot?" Hamish asked McQueen as he clambered back up to him.  
  
"Yes, Hamish. Daddy's going to get a new foot. I broke the other one, so I need a new one. Then I can walk again, and run, and carry you bad boys," Ty laughed.  
  
"We're good boys!" Cameron told him.  
  
"I know you are, Cameron. You're both lovely, good boys for mommy." He smiled.  
  
"And you daddy. Good boys for you." Cameron said earnestly.  
  
"Oh, definitely!" McQueen grinned. "Best boys in the entire world!"  
  
"But that daddy," Dill laughed. "Oh, he's a bad boy. He's a very bad boy."  
  
"Daddy, you jumped on the bed," Cameron said. "That's naughty."  
  
"I know. I'm sorry, Cameron. I didn't do it again though, did I?" Ty said apologetically.  
  
"Mummy says you're a bad boy," Cameron was confused. "Why are you a bad boy? Is it because you lost mummy's bajamas?"  
  
McQueen looked stunned for a second or two, then laughed out loud. "Yep, that's it, Cameron. Because I lost her bajamas."  
  
Dr. Ashbourne reappeared, carrying a large box. "Ah, who wants to see the shiny new foot?" he asked with a grin.  
  
"Me! Me!" Hamish yelled, jumping up and down on the bed.  
  
Cameron merely nodded and looked around for his doll. "Mummy, where's Cashus?" he asked.  
  
"Here, darling. He's with Izzy in the buggy." Dill told him.  
  
"Cashus wants to see daddy's new foot," he told her, reaching out for the doll.  
  
"Here you go, darling. Don't let Cashus touch the foot though," she smiled, as she handed him the black clad doll.  
  
Nodding, Cameron climbed down to the end of the bed, looking at the box.  
  
"Ready?" Ashbourne asked, his eyes shining with delight.  
  
At both the boys' and McQueen's nods, he lifted the lid, revealing a shiny metallic foot.  
  
"This is made from a very strong steel alloy. I'll attach it easily to the remains of the Aerotech leg, and you'll actually be able to feel the foot. The microprocessors are so sensitive that once it's attached you'll be able to feel it straightaway, and it's so easy to use. We spent a long time getting it right. Of course, if I was going to replace the whole leg, it would be even better. But there's no need to do that, though I might have a fiddle with the connections between your leg and the artificial one. See if I can't get the leg to perform better. You'll get much more feel to it, almost as good as a real one." He looked up at McQueen. "I'm afraid I'm rather proud of my limbs. It took us a long time to get them exactly as I wanted them, but they're perfect now. Sadly, we lost the contract to the military. They just couldn't afford us. Otherwise you'd be sporting my leg now. I'm surprised you've done as well as you have with it. Has it ever given you any problems?"  
  
"No, not that I've noticed. It's been fine." McQueen told him.  
  
"You'll notice the difference with this foot. It's damn flexible, too!" Ashbourne grinned. "Ah, who's this I see peeping at my foot?" he asked Cameron, who'd held his doll close to the foot to look at it.  
  
"Cashus," Cameron told him.  
  
"Ah, Cashus, nice name," Ashbourne told him. "What's yours?"  
  
"Cameron."  
  
"Well, Cameron, I'm Henry. It's nice to meet you and Cashus." Ashbourne smiled, holding out a hand.  
  
Cameron stared at him, and at the outstretched hand. He slowly took it to shake.  
  
"How do you do, Cameron," Ashbourne chuckled, as Cameron extended Cashus' hand to him. "And how do you do, Cashus," he said seriously. "I must say Cameron, Cashus looks like you."  
  
"No, Cashus looks like daddy. He has daddy's patches,"Cameron told him. "And look, daddy's navel." He turned the doll to show the navel on the back of its neck.  
  
"Ah, I see - a daddy doll. How exciting. What a lucky chap you are." he told Cameron.  
  
"Hamish hasn't got one," Cameron told him. "He has a blankie."  
  
"Ah, a good old blankie," Ashbourne smiled at Hamish. "Had one myself when I was young."  
  
"It's my blankie," Hamish told him sternly, checking to make sure it was still tucked firmly into his shorts.  
  
"Oh, I'm sure it is, young man. Mine's at home." Ashbourne laughed. "Now then, colonel, any questions about the foot?"  
  
"How long before I can get back to active duty?"  
  
"Typical!" Dill exclaimed. "That's all he cares about, getting back to the Saratoga!"  
  
"I should say about two to three months," Ashbourne told him. "After the surgery, which is, by the way, scheduled for tomorrow. It's three day's bed rest, and then up, on crutches to start with, walking around. You can go home after a week, and then six weeks on the crutches, even if you think you don't need them. Trust me, you do. Then maybe a couple of weeks after that, if everything is fine. You won't need much in the way of rehabilitation. That we can do while you're here. Mainly it's just using it. But without too much excitement." He smiled. "You'll do fine."  
  
"Three months! Hell, the war could be over by then!" McQueen wailed.  
  
"Then you'll miss it, won't you?"Ashbourne said smoothly. "Of course, I could always arrange for you to be pensioned off, if you'd prefer."  
  
"Hell no!" McQueen cried.  
  
"Anyone would think he couldn't wait to get away from his family," Dill chuckled. "It's a good job I know different."  
  
"Sorry, Dill," McQueen said contritely. "I didn't mean it to sound like that."  
  
"I know, it's ok," she smiled. "Ok boys, time to go. Grandma's going to take you home and give you dinner. Behave for her and go to bed nicely."  
  
"Mummy?" Hamish asked her. "Why you not coming?"  
  
"Because, my lover, I'm going to stay with daddy for a while, so he won't get lonely."  
  
"Daddy, do you want Cashus?" Cameron offered.  
  
"Thanks, Cameron, but I think he needs you." McQueen smiled.  
  
"Well, I'm off," Ashbourne said, smiling at the little family. "I'll see you bright and early, Colonel. Nine am sharp." He disappeared out of the door.  
  
"Burgers, Gamma?" Hamish asked.  
  
"Oh, my sweetheart, you'll look like a burger soon!" Moira laughed. "No, my love. How about some fishes?"  
  
"Ooh yes, grandma, fishes!" Cameron cried. "Those little ones?"  
  
"Yes, darling, those little ones," Moira laughed.  
  
"The fishy place, Gamma?" Hamish asked.  
  
"Yes, darling, I'll take you to the fishy place," Moira smiled. "Izzy likes those fishes too. Come on now, kiss daddy goodnight. We'll see him tomorrow, with his lovely new foot."  
  
She rounded up the boys and took them and Izzy, still asleep in the buggy, off to the fish restaurant they liked so much.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
For a minute Ty stared at Dill. "Well?" he finally asked.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Does the door lock?" he smirked.  
  
"Oh, for goodness sake, Ty!" she laughed. "You're not serious?"  
  
"Damn straight, I am," he told her. "Go on and see if it locks."  
  
"No," she said, shaking her head. "You're in hospital. Don't be silly."  
  
"Excuse me? Who was it who had me locking the door after the boys were born?"  
  
"That was different," she said, a blush rising to her face.  
  
"How was that?" he smiled, loving the way she blushed so easily.  
  
"It just was. I mean, I only helped you out a little there,"she mumbled softly.  
  
"That's all I'm asking you to do now," he pleaded. "Come on, Dill, please?"  
  
Reluctantly she got up and checked the door. Locking it, she sat on the edge of the bed. Ty looked at her. "What's the matter, Dill? ,You're not normally reluctant to play around a little. What's up?" He reached out and took her hand. "Is it because of my foot?"  
  
"No, Ty. No!" she cried. "It's not that, not at all!" She stopped. "It's just that... well...." Again, she stopped. "So what is it then?" he pushed, squeezing her hand and pulling her to him. "Tell me, what's the matter?"  
  
Dill snuggled into his arms and he pulled her onto his lap. She could feel his arousal pressing against her and for once she felt no response.  
  
"I'm sorry, Ty. I just, well, I think maybe...oh, I just don't know!" she cried, clinging to him, tears rolling down her face. "I'm sorry," she sobbed, pressing her face to his chest as he wrapped an arm around her.  
  
"It's okay," he soothed, using his free hand to gently stroke her hair. He was confused; this was not the strong capable Dill he was used to. As she sobbed in his arms he thought about what she'd gone through in the past few days. His leaving, and the pain and upset that caused. And then hearing that he was on his way home injured, not knowing though how badly and still having to deal with the children and her mother. He smiled to himself; in his arms he was holding one seriously stressed and scared Dill. For once he got to be the strong supportive, protective husband, and he liked it. He frowned. Maybe he'd just gotten used to the idea that Dill could cope with anything, and it never occurred to him that even she needed to let go sometimes. He stroked her hair and her back, gently soothing her, as his mind raced over their life together. A lot of it seemed to have been Dill soothing him, or them arguing, he realised. The few times Dill had been reduced to tears had generally followed an argument, when she was upset. He smiled. Except, of course, when she'd gone into early labour with the boys. Then he'd had to do exactly what he was doing now, holding her and telling her it would all be okay. A part of him wanted to be able to do it more often... wanted her to be a soft, helpless woman. But he knew he'd never be happy with a woman who needed looking after. That had been another nail in the coffin of his marriage to Amy. He loved Dill because although she looked so small and delicate, she was in fact a very determined woman. Strong and capable, not afraid of a challenge, and very much in love with him, despite the fact that he'd certainly presented her with a challenge or two over the past few years.  
  
His mind otherwise occupied, he barely registered her moving in his arms. Her body slid down his as she let go her hold on him, and pushing the bedding and his pyjamas aside, she bent her head to take his cock in her mouth. He gasped as she sucked hard on him, his hands pressing her head down to take his whole length in her mouth as his hips mindlessly began to thrust of their own accord.  
  
"Oh Christ, Dill!" he groaned as she drew her mouth up his length to slowly lick the tip. Flicking her tongue gently across the top, she swirled her tongue round and around, all the way to the base, before once again engulfing him in the hot moist depths of her throat.  
  
He lay back and revelled in the sensations. His hands left her head and clutched at the sheets as she sucked on him long and hard, before again licking up his length to his sensitive tip, repeating the swirling with her tongue. He bucked as he felt her finger pressing against his tight opening, and groaned with pleasure as she found his prostate and began massaging it.  
  
Before long he was groaning and mumbling, making enough noise to attract the nurses, he knew, but he couldn't help himself. As he felt his orgasm approaching he grabbed a pillow, knowing he was going to make even more noise. When he came his face was buried deep into the pillow as he screamed his release, and only after did he throw it aside as he gasped for air, his chest heaving.  
  
Dill sat up, licking her lips. "So, feeling more comfortable now?" she grinned wickedly.  
  
"How can you ask that?" he moaned. "You know the answer. But what about you? Are you feeling any better?"  
  
"Oh my, yes. I enjoyed that. I love listening to you, knowing it's me making you make those noises," she giggled. "And to think you used to be so quiet when we first met."  
  
"Well, you made enough noise for both of us." he told her, smiling.  
  
"I like to hear you enjoying it," she grinned. "It turns me on."  
  
"Turns you on, eh?" he sniggered. "So my guess is you're pretty turned on right about now."  
  
"Oh, yes," she agreed.  
  
"Then I guess I'd better do something about that," he chuckled. "Come on up here."  
  
She kissed her way up to his face and thrust her tongue into his mouth. He eagerly sucked it in, and kissed her back until she could barely breathe. Releasing her, he flipped her onto her back and had undone her jeans before she realised what he was doing.  
  
"Ty, no!" she gasped.  
  
"Oh, yes," he whispered, pulling her jeans down her thighs, his fingers catching her panties and pulling them too. He positioned himself with his cock pushing at her hot, wet centre and slid into her slowly, watching her face as he did so. Her eyes flew open and she gasped.  
  
"Oh, Ty," she moaned. "You are so bad. You really are."  
  
"That's not what you usually say," he whispered into her ear, as he began to move inside her, slowly at first, but building up to a faster rhythm as she began to squirm underneath him.  
  
"You want it faster?" he asked.  
  
"Oh god, yes!" she groaned. "And harder."  
  
"My pleasure," he whispered, speeding up and pumping harder. "Better?"  
  
"Oh, yes," she chuckled. "That's much better, flyboy. Do it. Go on, you know you can... do it properly."  
  
"Yes, ma'am," he smiled, hoping he could without his foot to give him the grip he needed. He reached around to hold her shoulders and began to pump harder and faster, until he was no longer holding back, but fucking her with all his strength and she was bucking up to meet each thrust. He prayed he could hold out until she came. Finally, just as he thought he could hold on no longer, he felt her body tighten around his cock, her muscles clenching as her whole body went rigid and she screamed into his neck, her hands gripping his shoulders for dear life. His own orgasm swiftly followed and he collapsed on top of her, his chest once again heaving with the effort to breathe.  
  
"You better roll off, flyboy, so I can get up and make myself presentable before the nurses appear to see what all the noise was about." Dill giggled when she'd recovered.  
  
"Damn! And I was so comfy, too," he moaned, moving off of her.  
  
"Well, there's an image I won't forget in a hurry," she chuckled as she sat up and hopped off the bed, pulling her clothes back up.  
  
"What?" he asked, puzzled.  
  
"You laying there in your banana pyjamas, flashing yourself at me." she laughed, pointing.  
  
Ty looked down, and blushing, tucked himself back in his pyjamas. "That's not fair," he said. "You have me at a distinct disadvantage."  
  
"I know, my love," she giggled, kissing him. "You never wear pj's normally, so you're always hanging out."  
  
"What a charming turn of phrase you have, Dill," he murmured. "Hanging out!"  
  
"What can I say?" she smirked, walking to unlock the door. "I'd have thought you'd got used to my strange Scots' ways by now.  
  
"Scots ways? Oh no, Dill. You are in a class of your own. Hell, a world of your own!" he chuckled.  
  
"Be grateful, flyboy, that I've not made you eat haggis!" she grinned.  
  
"Talking of eating, I'm starved," he groaned. As if to agree, his stomach growled loudly. "Do you think they ever intend to feed me in this place?"  
  
Dill shook her head at him, smiling. "Typical marine, always thinking about your stomach. Would you like me to go and see?"  
  
"Yes, please," he smiled. "And what's typical about being hungry? Can I help it if you made me work up an appetite?"  
  
"Me?" she chuckled. "It was your idea!"  
  
"Well, hell, Dill. It's been ages since I last saw you. Can I help it if you turn me on?"  
  
"It's been two days!" she exclaimed.  
  
"Two damn days too long," he grinned, as his stomach growled again. "Go see where my food is."  
  
Laughing, she disappeared through the door, leaving him laying there rubbing his stomach. She wasn't gone long, returning with a tray for him.  
  
"Here you go, flyboy. They were just coming round with food for you. I wonder if it's any better than regular hospital food, or what they serve in the officers' mess?" she said, placing the tray on the stand next to his bed.  
  
"Well, let's see." He lifted the cover. "It looks okay, I guess."  
  
"Ugh! You can't eat that! It looks awful," she grimaced. "Leave it; I'll go get you something. I noticed a restaurant on my way here. It's just across the street. Fancy Chinese?"  
  
Ty smiled at her. "And you wonder why I love you. It's okay, I can eat this. There's no need to go get me anything."  
  
She shook her head. "No, my love, you don't have to eat it."  
  
"Dill, I'm starved. Hell, I'd even eat those worms you once joked about." he told her, picking up his fork and starting to eat. "Well, it tastes better than it looks."  
  
"When I get you home, I'm going to make sure you eat some real food," she smiled. "Haggis?"  
  
"Hell, no!" he laughed.  
  
Dill sat in a chair by his bedside watching him eat. She smiled at the sight of him. His slender body was encased in the navy pyjamas, lavishly decorated with bright yellow bananas with smiley faces. Her smile widened into a broad grin as he looked up at her, his blue eyes questioning her look.  
  
"God, I love you, Tyrus McQueen. Every inch of you, from your lovely silver hair to your artificial toes," she smiled. "And you look so cute in those pj's. I hope you'll carry on wearing them when I get you home."  
  
He snorted and carried on eating, trying to pretend he was annoyed. But Dill knew him better than that. "I can't wait to see you in the camel ones. They're bright red, and say 'I've lived my life like a camel in the wind'!" she teased.  
  
"Red?" he asked, his eyes wide in horror.  
  
"Oh yes," she chuckled. "I really need to take some pictures of you like this." At his grumpy glare, she carried on. "For your kids Ty, the 58th. To let then know you're okay."  
  
"You are not taking pictures of me in these pyjamas, and certainly not to send to the 58th, or to Glen, for that matter!" he told her sternly.  
  
"But, Ty, you look so gorgeous in them!" she laughed.  
  
"I'm not talking to you any more," he teased. "You're mean and evil to me. What did you do with the Dill I know and love? You're an impostor."  
  
"If I'm an impostor, then you just cheated on your wife. She'll never forgive you," she teased him back.  
  
Before he could reply, a nurse appeared in the doorway. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave now, Mrs McQueen. The colonel has an early start tomorrow. We need him to get plenty of rest."  
  
Dill nodded. "Ok." She turned to McQueen. "Well, my love, I guess it's time for me to go. I'll be back in the morning, ready for when they take you in."  
  
"You don't need to be here for that, Dill," he told her.  
  
She looked at him carefully. "I think, my love, that I will be here early. I need to be here. If not for you, then for me. Maybe I need to hold your hand until they take you in."  
  
"I can't think of a better way to start the day," Ty smiled at her.  
  
"Oh, I can," she grinned. "But I'm not sure that's a good idea."  
  
"Well, I'd be relaxed, at the very least." he chuckled.  
  
Dill bent to kiss him. "Goodnight, my lover, sleep well." She settled him in the bed and tucked him in firmly, grinning as he laughed.  
  
"Jeez, Dill, you'll make someone a wonderful mother one of these days!"  
  
"Oh, be quiet and go to sleep!" she laughed, giving him one last kiss before leaving him to sleep. 


	3. 3

Promo. Chapter 3.  
  
Dill sat in the waiting room, her eyes fixed on the door to the operating theatre opposite. Her thoughts constantly drifted to the sight of Ty, pale and vulnerable, as they wheeled him into the theatre. She checked her watch. It had been four hours since the operation began; it was time for her to phone her mother and check on the children. With a sigh, she got up and headed outside the building, ensuring her phone wouldn't interfere with any of the medical equipment.  
  
After being told that 'yes, Dylan, the children all ate a good lunch' and 'No, Dylan, they are behaving themselves', she headed back inside, fetching a coffee from the machine on the way. As she was heading back to the waiting room, coffee in hand, she had to jump out of the way as a team of nurses rushed past, dragging a resuscitation trolley in their wake in response to a Code Blue alert. Thinking to herself that some poor soul was in trouble, her coffee hit the floor as she watched them burst through the doors into the room where her husband was. In a blind panic, she ran after them, her heart pounding. Grabbing a nurse who was leaving the room, she asked, "What's happening? Is he ok? Tell me, please!"  
  
"You're his family?" At Dill's nod, the nurse continued, "I'm sorry, I'm in a hurry. Sit down. Someone will come and speak to you in a moment."  
  
"Please?" Dill begged. "Tell me now what's going on?"  
  
"His heart stopped. We've restarted it, but the surgeon isn't happy. Look, sit down, grab a coffee, and someone will be out in a minute or two. I promise." With that, the nurse took off at a run.  
  
Dill sat in the waiting room for about 60 seconds before she jumped up and began pacing, her mind running over every horrific scenario that she could think of. By the time a nurse appeared, she was frantic with worry, convinced that Ty'd died, or that he'd suffered catastrophic brain damage.  
  
"Mrs. McQueen?"  
  
"Yes!" Dill practically yelled. "What's going on? Is he all right? Is he going to be ok?" She couldn't keep the fear from her voice, or the panic from her face.  
  
"Sit down," the nurse told her. "Dr. Ashbourne sent me out to let you know your husband is stable. Mr. Ashbourne will be out in a moment or two to speak to you himself. He says that you are not to worry. Now, if you'll excuse me." And that said, leaving Dill knowing no more than she had before, the nurse disappeared down the hallway at a run.  
  
Dill sat down to wait, her own heart racing as again her thoughts again drifted to the worst-case scenarios.  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
Sometime later, her mother arrived with the children. "Dylan! Are you all right? I got a call asking me to come in now. Has Henry told you what's going on? How's TC?"  
  
"I don't know!" Dill wailed. "A nurse said he'd be out to talk to me, but that was over an hour ago! I'm so scared. What's gone wrong? Why did they call you now?"  
  
"Well, I imagine that Henry is ready for me to do the plastic surgery. That's good, Dylan. It means he's nearly finished. I'm sorry, but I had to bring the children. The sitter rang to say her car had broken down and she couldn't get in. They're all about ready for a nap, so why don't you take them down to TC's room and put them to sleep in his bed? Go on, and as soon as I can, I'll be along to let you know what's happened. I promise you, Dylan, I'll make sure they do the best they can for him. And remember, TC is a fighter. Look what he's gone through in his life. Now he has you and the children. He won't give up easily. He won't let go, Dylan. Go on, put the children to bed and try not to worry. I know it's hard, my darling, but you can do it if you try."  
  
Dill sighed, staring at the children. "Ok, mother, I'll see to the children. But promise me you'll look after Ty for me, please?"  
  
"Of course, Dylan. As if I'd do anything else." Moira looked up, worry on her face, as a light began to flash on the wall by the operating theatre door. "Dylan, take the children and go now!"she said forcefully, as once again nurses began rushing towards the door.  
  
Dill began to tremble, watching as people flew in and out of the door yelling to each other. "Mother, I need him! I just need to hold him." Her eyes were filled with tears.  
  
"Dylan! The children. Now!" Moira shook her.  
  
"Yes, mother," she answered meekly, gathering the children together and heading towards Ty's empty room.  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
By the time Moira had scrubbed up, the room was filled with people. She emerged from the scrub room to see Ashbourne leaning against a wall, watching the resuscitation team working on McQueen.  
  
"Henry! What the hell is going on?" she demanded.  
  
"Moira! Am I glad to see you! This man of yours is giving us no end of trouble. It turned out that the leg was more damaged that we knew, so I had to replace the whole leg. Fortunately I brought a whole one with me. You should have seen their faces at customs!"  
  
"Henry," she growled at him, "stop the wandering and spit it out, man!"  
  
"Sorry,"he smiled. "Well, obviously we had to put him under all the way. Within minutes of deepening the anaesthesia, his blood pressure dropped quite dramatically. We stabilised him enough for me to finish getting the damn leg off, and his bloody heart stopped! Fortunately the team here is excellent, and got him going again, but his pressure is still low, and we don't know why." Ashbourne sighed. "I told them well beforehand that he's an invitro, so the drugs were all double checked - it can't be that. "  
  
"Are you sure, Henry? Did you check the drugs yourself? We can't lose him, Henry, we really can't."  
  
"Of course I checked the drugs. Just what kind of a surgeon do you think I am?" he exclaimed indignantly.  
  
"Sorry, Henry, but his heart's stopped again, hasn't it? Something's wrong. He's fit and disgustingly healthy, so why has his blood pressure dropped?"  
  
"I did think maybe the pain from removing the old leg, but we upped the anaesthesia, so it can't have been that. The new leg is attached now, that's why I had you called. But then off he went again!"  
  
"You upped the anaesthesia? Did you check that, Henry? Did you check it was safe for him?" she asked, still watching as the resuscitation team finally backed away from the table with smiles all round. "It looks like they've got him back, thank god!"  
  
Ashbourne paled as he admitted, "I didn't check all the bottles. I left that to Perkins, the anaesthesiologist. After all, that's his job."  
  
"Let's check now, Henry," Moira ordered, going to the head of the table. "Mr. Perkins, have you changed bottles?"  
  
"Yes, ma'am, when Dr. Ashbourne asked for a stronger mix. I added this bottle right here," he tapped the bottle farthest from Moira, "to the mix."  
  
Stepping around to the other side, Moira's face paled. "You didn't turn the bottle around to double check it, did you? Look at this. Do you see this bright red warning sticker? Do you know what it means? It means that this drug is not safe for invitros! No wonder his pressure dropped. And you're still making him breathe it. Change it! Do it now!" she demanded.  
  
Perkins hurriedly removed the offending bottle and grabbed another bottle, turning it rapidly in his hands to make sure it had no warning label before fixing it into place.  
  
"Good god, man!" Ashbourne yelled. "I told you to make sure that all the gas bottles were safe for us to use! This was your responsibility. You assured me you'd checked everything! Are you fit to continue here, or shall we call for a new anaesthesiologist?" He turned to Moira. "Shit, Moira, I could have killed him by not checking them all myself!"  
  
Moira placed her hand on Ashbourne's arm. "Henry, his pressure is rising," she told him, her gaze on the readout. "And his breathing is starting to even out. Thank god we found out now. How the hell do I explain this to my daughter? She's out there now, worried sick, terrified of losing him." She stared at the anaesthesiologist. "You have a lot of explaining to do, and I will ensure that disciplinary actions are taken. Now attend to your job while I finish up here and make this leg look presentable."  
  
Moira squeezed McQueen's hand, leaning over to whisper in his ear, "Everything's OK now, TC. You're going to be fine, I promise." She glanced over at Ashbourne. "Henry, stay here for me, please, and keep an eye on this chap. Make sure he doesn't cock anything else up!"  
  
"My pleasure," she heard, as Ashbourne settled himself at the head of the table.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
Dill, however, was having problems of her own. "Come on, boys - I want you both to go to the toilet please, and then you're going to take a nap for me. Look, Izzy is already asleep there in the buggy. You boys can sleep in daddy's bed."  
  
"No, mummy!" Hamish told her.  
  
"Yes, Hamish. I think you do need to go - you're holding yourself. Please let's have no wet clothes today. Off you go."  
  
"Okay, mummy,"he said, heaving an exaggerated sigh, and tugging at his shorts as he made his way into the bathroom.  
  
"What about you, Cameron – need a wee?" she asked.  
  
"No," he told her, yawning.  
  
"Come on then. Sandals off, and you can have a rest in daddy's bed. You can keep it warm for him." Dill lifted him up onto the bed, and after removing his shoes, tucked him in.  
  
"I'm not tired!" he complained.  
  
"Well, just lie there quietly then, because Hamish is a tired boy and he needs to sleep."  
  
"Yes, mummy," Cameron sighed, as Hamish returned, pulling up his shorts.  
  
"Did you wash your hands?" Dill asked him.  
  
"Yes," he told her, grinning.  
  
"I don't think so, little man - not if you're still pulling your shorts up. Come on, let's go wash them properly." Dill took his hand and led him back into the bathroom, smiling as she noticed Cameron snuggling down under the covers.  
  
When they came back, Cameron was asleep. Dill tucked Hamish up beside him and kissed them both, knowing that Hamish would be asleep in minutes.  
  
Throwing herself into the chair by the window, she sat and stared at her children, grateful that they all still slept in the afternoons. Dill sighed. Seeing the boys asleep in Ty's bed, looking so much like him, brought back all her worry and fear. What would she do if she lost him? She could hardly bear to think about it. She'd be devastated, as would the boys. And Isobel had hardly got to know him. Feeling the tears welling, she shook her head, telling herself that she mustn't think such things. But however hard she tried, the dark thoughts kept intruding, until finally, almost two hours after she'd settled the boys to sleep, there was a tap at the door.  
  
Jumping up, she flung the door open, making the nurse jump back in fright.  
  
"Sorry," Dill whispered, pointing to the sleeping children. "They'll be waking up any minute, but I'd like them to sleep as long as possible."  
  
"That's okay,"the nurse smiled. "Dr. Mackenzie sent me to tell you that everything is fine. Your husband is stable. The new leg looks as if it's a perfect fit, and she's covering it. So that'll take about another hour. He should be back by about,"she consulted her watch, "five o'clock. Perhaps you'd like to take the children out for a bit. He's going to be quite groggy when he gets back."  
  
"I'll need to take the children out for some food, but I can't bear not to be here if anything else happens," Dill told her. "Tell me, please, what happened earlier?"  
  
"Well, his blood pressure dropped, and his heart stopped. We managed to revive him and he's fine now. Nothing else is going to go wrong," the nurse assured her. "When you take the children out, stop at the nurses' station and let us know where you'll be."  
  
Dill frowned, as Isobel began to cry. "I'd better get her before she wakes up the boys."  
  
"Ok, but remember to stop in and tell us where you'll be!"  
  
Nodding, Dill went to pick up Isobel. "Shush, Izzy. Are you hungry, little one? Let's see to your stinky bottom before your brothers wake up, shall we?" She carried her daughter into the bathroom, emerging a few minutes later to found that the boys were awake too.  
  
"Ok boys, off for a wee, please," she told them.  
  
Both boys began to wail. "I don't need to!" "Mummy, no!"  
  
"Just go and try for me, please?" she asked them.  
  
"I don't need a wee!" Cameron yelled crossly.  
  
Hamish looked at his brother and then at the look on Dill's face. Without a word, he slipped off the bed, his small bare feet slapping on the floor as he headed to the bathroom.  
  
"Cameron McQueen, I asked you to go to the bathroom, please. You had better not have wee'd in daddy's bed or I will be very cross!" Dill told him sternly, as she put Isobel on the floor and rummaged in the buggy for a toy for her.  
  
"I didn't wee in the bed, and I don't need a wee!" he shouted at her, his sun brown face flushing red as his rage built.  
  
"Cameron, I'm going to count to three, and you'd better be getting out of that bed. One," she glared at him. "Two." He glared back at her. "Three! Now out!" Dill stood up and picked him up.  
  
"No, mummy!" he yelled.  
  
"Yes, young man. I asked you nicely, and I counted. Now into the bathroom with you!"  
  
Cameron flung himself onto the floor next to his sister and began to scream.  
  
Hamish peered round the bathroom door. "I did a wee, mummy," he said.  
  
"Good boy," she told him. "And when your brother is quite finished, we'll go and get you all something to eat."  
  
Hamish beamed at her and her heart skipped; his smile was so like his fathers. She held out her arms and he ran into them. "Oh, Hamish, I love you so much. I really do, and I wish your daddy was here to see you being such a good boy."  
  
All the while Cameron lay on the floor, his eyes tightly closed, as he flailed his limbs about and screamed. Dill picked up Isobel, and taking Hamish by the hand, led him out of the room, leaving the door ajar. "When you're quite finished, Cameron, and you're ready to behave, we'll be outside." she said as they left the room.  
  
Taking seats in the hallway, they waited for Cameron to calm down. Dill knew that once he no longer had an audience, he'd soon stop.  
  
"Mummy?" Hamish whispered.  
  
"Yes, my love?"  
  
"Cameron is a bad boy."  
  
"Oh, yes, he surely is." she laughed.  
  
"I'm a good boy," he whispered, snuggling up to her.  
  
"Yes, my darling, you surely are." Dill wrapped her free arm around him, holding him close. She smiled to herself - Ty had yet to witness one of Cameron's temper tantrums. The thought made her frown, as she prayed that he'd be around to witness the next one. And suddenly all her fears were back, and she barely noticed when Cameron appeared in the doorway.  
  
"Mummy," he whispered.  
  
"Oh, Cameron!" she sighed. "Look at you - you've wet yourself. Into that bathroom this instant, young man!"  
  
Dill rose, and with Hamish following at her heels, went back into the room. She sat Isobel on the floor. "Play nicely with Izzy for me while I see to Cameron." she asked Hamish, as she rummaged in her capacious buggy bag for spare clothing.  
  
When she emerged from the bathroom with a clean and changed Cameron, she found Hamish laughing as he fed Isobel the crumbs and fluff from the bottom of the buggy.  
  
"Oh, for goodness sake, Hamish!" she chided him. "Come on now - shoes on, everyone. Let's go get you guys some dinner." Dill strapped Isobel into the buggy, and with a brief stop at the nurse's station, they left, heading for the diner across the street from the clinic.  
  
An hour or so later, after yet another tantrum from Cameron because the diner didn't have any 'little fishes', Dill was about ready to scream, as they headed back to Ty's room in the clinic. Isobel was happily chuckling to herself in the buggy, clutching in her podgy hand a chocolate muffin, of which she took an occasional bite. Hamish was holding on to the buggy with one hand and eating his chocolate muffin with the other. Cameron had thrown his on the floor and stomped on it, and was now trailing behind, every so often telling Dill that she was a 'bad mummy' and that he was 'going to tell daddy on her'.  
  
Dill ignored him, just checking every so often that he was still following them. As they reached Ty's room she could see that the door was open and the nurses were just leaving. She sped up, desperate to see for herself that her husband was okay.  
  
"Mrs. McQueen - there you are," a nurse called. "We wondered where you'd gone. The operation went well, and he's fine. A little groggy, but fine."  
  
"He's awake?" Dill asked excitedly.  
  
"Oh, yes. Just don't expect to discuss the meaning of life with him for now!" the nurse laughed.  
  
Dill grinned, relieved that he was safe and sound. "Did everything go okay?"  
  
"Dr. Ashbourne is very happy. He says bed rest for three days, and then it's up and walking on the new leg. I wouldn't bring the children in for that, if I were you. In my experience, the air is usually blue the first few days!" the nurse told her. "Go on in. I'm sure he's dying to see you."  
  
"Thanks," Dill smiled, going into the room and parking Isobel's buggy by the window, temporarily forgetting about Cameron's bad mood.  
  
"Hey, Dill," came a hoarse whisper from the bed.  
  
"Oh, Ty!" she cried. "You had me so worried, my lover. How do you feel?" She looked him over carefully, unconvinced that he truly was fine.  
  
"I feel fine,"he smiled. "I can feel the leg."  
  
"Does it hurt?"  
  
"No, it just feels.... kind of strange. Different from before."  
  
"Well, it's a whole new leg, my love. They had to replace the whole thing." Dill sat on the bed and hugged him tightly. "God, Ty, I'm so glad you're okay. You gave us all a really bad scare."  
  
"I know," he whispered, hugging her back. "The nurse here told me I'd had them all worried for a moment or two. Now where are those kids of mine?"  
  
"Which ones?" she asked. "Our babies, or the 58th?"  
  
"Our babies," he chuckled. "Why would I want to see the 58th?"  
  
"Well, they're the ones you usually call your kids." she grinned. "Am I supposed to be a mind reader now, too?"  
  
"Of course you are!" Ty laughed. He looked around the room and saw Hamish hiding in the doorway. "Hey, little guy. Coming up to see me?"  
  
With a grin, Hamish clambered up onto the bed, while Dill unstrapped Isobel and put her on the bed too.  
  
"Where's Cameron?" Ty asked.  
  
"He's been a monster all afternoon. I expect he's having another tantrum outside. I'll go get him." Dill sighed.  
  
"Cameron's been a bad boy," Hamish told him. "I've been a good boy."  
  
Dill poked her head around the door. "Cameron, come and say hi to daddy. He needs his boy." she called.  
  
There was no sign of her son in the hallway, and Dill's heart pounded in her chest. "Christ!"  
  
"What's the matter?" she heard Ty call.  
  
"Nothing!" she called back, as she hared off down the hallway looking for Cameron.  
  
Reaching the nurses' station, she stopped. "I've lost one of my boys. Have you seen him?"  
  
"What does he look like? We'll alert security." she was told.  
  
"He's about so high." Dill held her hand a couple of feet above the ground. "He has short, blonde, curly hair, big blue eyes, and he's wearing denim short overalls, a white short sleeved shirt, and brown, open sandals. Cameron - his name is Cameron."  
  
"The little one?" she was asked.  
  
"Yes, he's the little one. He was here a minute ago, and now he's gone...he never runs off, usually!"  
  
"I think I saw him a minute or two ago... going in that direction,"a young nurse pointed.  
  
Dill ran, desperately looking in every open doorway, down every hallway, until all that was left was outside. On her way out, she ran into a security guard also looking for him.  
  
"Where were you before you lost him?" he asked her.  
  
"We'd just arrived back at my husband's room." she told him.  
  
"And where had you been?"  
  
"I took them for some food, at the diner across the street." A look of panic crossed Dill's face as she realised he hadn't been carrying Cashus. "My god, what if he's going back there? I think we left his doll behind!" She turned and ran.  
  
To her relief, he was standing on the kerb, waiting for the lights to change.  
  
"Cameron!" she called.  
  
The little boy turned, and she saw the tears streaming down his face. "I left Cashus behind!" he wailed.  
  
"Oh, my lover!" Dill hugged him to her. "You should have told me! You gave me such a fright."  
  
"I need Cashus!" he cried.  
  
"I know, baby. Let's go get him together, shall we? Then daddy is waiting to say hello to you."  
  
"Daddy?" Cameron asked, wiping his eyes.  
  
"Yes, daddy. He wanted a cuddle, but you weren't there," she told him, picking him up in her arms as they crossed the road to collect Cashus from the diner.  
  
On their way back, Dill alerted security to the fact that she'd found her young son. They headed back to McQueen's room, where she could hear Isobel crying and Hamish telling Ty that it was her bedtime.  
  
"Hey, Cameron," Ty smiled. "What's up, little guy?"  
  
"I left Cashus behind," Cameron told him, as Dill put him down on the bed.  
  
McQueen looked at Dill, eyebrows raised.  
  
"Don't ask. He was going back to the diner. I found him before he crossed the road, thank god." She sighed, picking up Isobel and flopping into the chair with the baby on her lap. "I think it's time I took these children home and put them to bed," she told him. "You need to get some rest, too. I'll see you in the morning, sweetie." Dill stood up and strapped Isobel into the buggy, before helping the boys down off the bed.  
  
"Dill?" Ty whispered.  
  
She turned to him, her exhaustion plain to see on her face. But as soon as she saw his pale face, tired and sleepy, she smiled, despite her tiredness. "Yes, my lover?"  
  
"Can I have a proper kiss and a hug before you go?"  
  
"Of course you can," she smiled. "I'm sorry that I have to go, but it's been a hell of a day. I just want to get these monsters bathed and into bed so I can collapse myself."  
  
"So what are you waiting for?" he smiled. "Come and give me my kiss, and you can go home and relax. I'm sorry if I scared you."  
  
"Oh, you!" she cried, sitting on the bed and snuggling into his arms as he kissed her, letting him feel her love for him as he held her close.  
  
When they came up for air, she sighed. "I really thought I was going to lose you today. You have no idea how happy I was to see you back in that bed."  
  
"If it was half as happy as I was to be back in it, then I know how you felt!" he chuckled. "You'd better go Dill. You're right. I am tired, and so is Izzy. Look."  
  
Isobel lay back in her buggy, thumb in mouth, her eyelids slowly drooping as she tried to stay awake.  
  
"Poor wee thing!" Dill laughed. "Come on then boys - last kisses for daddy and off we go!"  
  
By the time the boys had scrabbled over to Ty for a few farewell kisses, Isobel was sound asleep, and Ty himself was yawning, the effects of the sedatives still in his system. Dill tucked him in and herded up the boys, leaving her husband to sleep in peace.  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Three days later Dill sat in the chair, having pushed it as far from the bed as possible and watched as Ty picked himself up again.  
  
"I'm telling you, it feels odd!" he fumed at the therapist helping him up.  
  
"What do you mean, it feels odd?" the woman asked. "I don't know. It just feels different than the other one!" he snapped. "Does it hurt?" the therapist asked. "No, it just feels...odd!" Ty glared at Dill, who was trying to hide a smile. "You can stop grinning, too!"  
  
"I am so glad the children are with mother. You're so grumpy. I can see where the boys get it from! Are you sure it doesn't hurt?" Dill smiled.  
  
"I told you, didn't I? I've been telling everyone for days. It doesn't bloody well hurt - it just feels...odd!"  
  
"Define odd," Dill asked him, as he gingerly stood upright and reached for the crutches the therapist was holding.  
  
He glared at her again. "I can't describe it. I can feel it, and it feels... odd."  
  
"You have to do better than that if you're going to be so grumpy, mister!" Dill laughed. "You sound like Hamish."  
  
"See if you can walk now," the therapist told him. "Take it easy though."  
  
"Okay, okay! I'm doing it!" Ty yelled, the frustration of the last hour in his voice. An hour in which he'd lost his balance more times than he cared to remember, and he hadn't yet managed a step with the crutches.  
  
McQueen rammed the crutches under his arms and leant his weight on them, smiling as he remained upright.  
  
"That's a good start," Dill offered.  
  
"Hmm," he frowned, before he began toppling towards her. "Shit!"  
  
Dill leapt up to grab him. "Don't worry, you'll get here. You'll soon be rushing around after the children on these things."  
  
"Yeah, when hell freezes over," Ty grumbled, as she sat him back on the bed.  
  
"Come on, let's try again," the therapist said brightly, ignoring the glare Ty gave her as she took the crutches away.  
  
Once again McQueen stood himself upright, and when he was balanced, reached for the crutches. Having firmly rammed them under his arms, he tried taking a step towards Dill. A small satisfied smile crossed his face as he managed to walk to her.  
  
"See, I knew you could do it!" Dill laughed, jumping up from her seat and hugging him.  
  
"Careful Dill!" he cried as he lost his balance again.  
  
She grabbed him tightly and helped him upright. "Sorry, my lover," she chuckled. "I got a little carried away there"  
  
"I think you're doing very well," the therapist told him with a smile.  
  
McQueen stared at her and shook his head. He turned to Dill and whispered, "Do you think she's retarded? All she does is stand there, grinning aimlessly."  
  
"Tyrus McQueen!" Dill exclaimed.  
  
He had the grace to blush. "Sorry," he mumbled.  
  
"I should think so too! "Dill told him sternly. "Come on now - do you think you can get back to the bed?"  
  
"Of course I can! You know, this leg feels really strange - I can feel the floor," he said, as he slowly made his way back to the bed.  
  
"Oh, we've moved up from odd to strange, have we?" Dill smiled.  
  
"I should hope you can feel the floor," Ashbourne said from the doorway. "That foot has sensors in the sole. You're supposed to be able to feel the floor. So how are you feeling? Up and about, I see."  
  
"Just about,"McQueen frowned. "But this leg feels odd."  
  
"Back to odd," Dill laughed.  
  
"You'll get used to it. I expect it feels very different from the last one, yes?" Ashbourne smiled.  
  
"Hell, yes!" McQueen grinned. "This is easier to use. I don't have to think about it too much."  
  
"I told you, didn't I?" Ashbourne smiled. "You'll be fine on those crutches in a day or two, but you do need to use them for the next six weeks. And no trying without them until I say so." He looked at Dill. "I'm relying on you to make sure he does. Your mother says you know how to make him behave. Now then, let's take a look at this leg then, shall we? Hop up onto the bed for me, will you please?"  
  
McQueen leant the crutches on the bed and sat down, scooting backwards to support himself properly.  
  
"Ah, now then, I need to see it. Slip these charming pyjamas off for me, please," Ashbourne said.  
  
Dill jumped up to help her husband, ensuring that the pyjama top was pulled down as far as it would go. This caused both McQueen and Ashbourne to laugh.  
  
"Nothing like a woman to make sure your modesty is preserved!" Ashbourne chuckled.  
  
"Oh, it's not that. She's not bothered about my modesty," McQueen smirked. "She just doesn't want anyone else seeing more of me than necessary!"  
  
"Shut up, you!" Dill giggled, sitting next to him on the bed and giving him a gentle slap on the arm as Ashbourne lifted McQueen's leg, flexing the knee and feeling the connection.  
  
"Any pain?" Ashbourne asked. "None? Not at all?" as McQueen shook his head.  
  
"No, not that I've noticed. Unless you've been feeding me painkillers without telling me," McQueen told him.  
  
"Ah,"Ashbourne smiled. "No, not been doing that." He continued to knead McQueen's leg, feeling around the join. "Well, I'm pleased to say this leg appears a perfect match for you. There seems to be no sign of rejection. We'd know by now. And accidents aside, it should last you the rest of your life. Now up you get - let's see you on those crutches."  
  
Hopping down off the bed and grabbing the crutches, McQueen fairly flew across the room and back, his confidence increasing with each step.  
  
"Good, man. We'll have you home tomorrow, I think." Ashbourne looked sternly at Dill. "But, ah, no... umm 'activities', shall we say, for the next week. That leg needs to be broken in gently." At her blush, he laughed. "Well, I suppose if you took control, that would be alright. But he stays flat on his back, understand?" At her red-faced nod, Ashbourne grabbed the therapist by the arm and led her out of the room.  
  
"Oh my god!" Dill laughed. "I can't believe he just said that!"  
  
"Well, at least we can,"McQueen grinned, as he walked across the room again, "providing you do all the work for once!"  
  
"Get back here, flyboy, and get your pants on!" she laughed. "I do my fair share, mister. I've not heard you complaining."  
  
With a chuckle, Ty made his way back to her, and with her, help pulled his pyjamas back on.  
  
"You know, these red ones are even worse than the navy ones," he told her. "I can't believe I'm actually wearing them." He shuddered.  
  
"Hamish will be pleased. He's been so good these last few days, but Cameron has played me up merry hell. Nothing but tantrums from the moment he wakes up to the minute he goes to bed. I'm sure he's stressed about you being in here, it'll be good to get you home. I just wish we were going home, not staying here." Dill sighed. "I really miss the loch."  
  
Ty leant in to kiss her. "Tomorrow he said, didn't he? But how do you feel about doing some work now?"  
  
"Ty!" she laughed. "No way, mister. You can just jolly well wait until tomorrow."  
  
"Damn you, woman," he moaned as he took her in his arms and kissed her again.  
  
"Oh, give over," she sighed, surrendering herself to his kiss.  
  
"God, how I love you Dill." Ty growled softly.  
  
"And I love you, too," she whispered, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him longingly. "When I get you home, I'll do all the work you like."  
  
"Promise?"  
  
"Oh yes, flyboy, that's a promise," Dill whispered huskily.  
  
There was a tap on the door, and a youngish, dark haired man appeared, dressed in a suit and holding out a business card to McQueen.  
  
"Colonel McQueen?" he asked.  
  
"Yes?" McQueen frowned. The card said Aerotech.  
  
"I'm here about your leg. The name's Bob Dwyer." He held out his hand, withdrawing it when it became obvious that neither was going to shake it. In fact, the temperature appeared to have dropped several degrees.  
  
"What about my leg?" McQueen asked warily.  
  
"You damaged it, didn't you? I'm here to organise repairs." Dwyer told them, looking suspiciously at McQueen's legs.  
  
"I don't need repairs from you," McQueen told him firmly.  
  
"Apparently not. We must have been mis-informed. I was told you'd lost a foot."  
  
"I did, but I have a new leg now. One that doesn't belong to you," McQueen growled, glaring at him.  
  
"Did you request permission to remove the Aerotech leg?" Dwyer demanded, determined not to be intimidated by McQueen.  
  
"What?" Dill yelled, astonished at such a question. "What the hell did you expect him to do? Call up Aerotech and ask if it's okay to get his leg smashed up by a cargo container?" She moved to get off the bed, but McQueen's hand pressed firmly on her thigh restrained her.  
  
"Why would I need your permission to remove my leg?" McQueen asked calmly.  
  
Dill's yelling had brought a nurse to the door. "Can I help?" she asked.  
  
"Yes, can you get Dr. Ashbourne back here, please?" Dill asked her, breathing deeply, trying not to lose her temper.  
  
"Ashbourne? You have an Ashbourne leg?" Dwyer asked.  
  
"Yes, I do. What of it?" McQueen growled, conscious that Dill was getting worked up and determined not to himself.  
  
"It's totally incompatible with Aerotech technology; it'll give you endless problems," Dwyer told him with a smug smile.  
  
"No, it won't," came Ashbourne's voice from the doorway. The nurse had taken one look at Dill's face and decided she'd better get him there as fast as humanly possible. "There's no Aerotech substandard technology left on his knee. I removed it all. And before you ask me, no, I didn't ask Aerotech's permission. But you can have the remains of the leg back. It might be useful for spares, though personally, I'd scrap it."  
  
Dwyer stared at him, a look of hatred on his face. "It is Aerotech policy that permission must be granted before the removal of any Aerotech limbs."  
  
"Why?" Ashbourne asked. "So that you can send one of your pet surgeons over to ensure no-one realises just how sub standard these limbs are?"  
  
"You have no right to say that!" Dwyer exploded.  
  
Ashbourne pointed at McQueen. "And I assume he has no rights regarding his leg?" he demanded angrily.  
  
"He's a tank! As much Aerotech's product as that damned leg we were forced to give him!" Dwyer spat.  
  
Dill was off the bed like a shot. McQueen grabbed her and pulled her back. "No, Dill. Let it go." He turned to Dwyer. "I served my indenture. I did my time. You people got back the money it cost you to make me. I don't belong to Aerotech, or to anyone. I'm my own man, and the only people I answer to are my family and the Corps. I don't owe you anything. The corps paid you handsomely for my leg. Therefore it was my leg, and I don't have to ask your permission to replace it with something better!"  
  
"We'll see about that!" Dwyer fumed.  
  
"Yes, we will," Ashbourne told him coldly. "And you'll deal with my lawyers, not Colonel McQueen. As his surgeon, your gripe is with me. I removed the leg. All aspects of his surgery, no matter how small, will be done through my lawyers. You people don't scare me, and I'll be fighting you every step of the way, revealing all those nasty little secrets you hide in the darkest corners you can find! I did it before, and I'll do it again! Now get out of this clinic, and don't show your face again unless you are expressly invited by me!"  
  
As Dwyer left fuming, Ashbourne turned to McQueen. "Don't worry about a thing. If you'll pardon the pun, they don't have a leg to stand on! Good grief. To say that you're their product! Of all the damned cheek! How dare they!" he said angrily.  
  
"Well, I am an invitro. I was made by them, so I guess technically he's right," McQueen sighed.  
  
"Oh no, you don't!" Ashbourne told him. "You are no more a product than the rest of us. Good grief man - look in the mirror. What do you see? A sell-by date? Did you come with an extended warranty? No? Well, neither does anyone else. We are all the products of our parents, natural born or invitro. My lawyers are going to enjoy themselves with this one. I'm so glad I had my micro-recorder in my pocket! Let's see him weasel his way out of that remark." He left them alone as, still muttering to himself, he disappeared down the hallway.  
  
Dill turned to McQueen. "Oh god, Ty," she wailed, "that's all we need - Aerotech poking about. What if they see Hamish?"  
  
"Are you still worrying over that? Don't. It's probably nothing. Look at your father - he's huge, and Hamish takes after him, I'm sure." He hugged her close. "Don't lose it now, Dill. I need you too much. I need you to help me through this." At Dill's startled look, he smiled. "Oh, not this crap with Aerotech. But my leg. I need you to help me, to make sure I do as I'm told. I don't want to risk damaging it, and you know what I'm like. I need my bossy wife to keep me under control!"  
  
"I'm okay," she smiled. "I just wish those buggers hadn't turned up."  
  
"Well, once I leave here tomorrow they won't know where we are, will they? And we can start looking for that house you want. I'll be able to help you pick one."  
  
"I hadn't thought of that. Oh, you're such a clever boy!" she chuckled, kissing him.  
  
"I try," he laughed, pulling her down onto the bed.  
  
"Oh no, mister - I know your tricks!" she giggled. "None of that!"  
  
"Please, Dill," he pleaded in a low, sexy voice, gently stroking her back under her shirt.  
  
"Don't give me that voice and those sheep eyes!" she giggled, wriggling in his arms.  
  
"But Dill - I neeeeeed you" he whispered into her ear. "Feel how much."  
  
"You take the cake - you really do!" Dill giggled. "Let me up this instant!"  
  
With a sigh, he let go of her, pouting as she climbed off the bed. "It's these pyjamas, isn't it? Passion killers, that's what they are!"  
  
"Oh, stop being such a baby!" she chuckled as she walked to the door. Locking it, she returned to the bed and lay down next to him, her fingers reaching to undo the buttons of his top.  
  
Ty sighed contentedly as she pushed him flat on his back, her tongue licking at the scars on his chest as she moved slowly towards his nipples. Lavishing attention on them until they were hard under her tongue, she began to suckle them, occasionally giving them small gentle nips as he groaned beneath her.  
  
"Oh, Dill," he mumbled again, as her hands began to stroke his body never going below his waistband. "Lower, Dill, please," he begged.  
  
Laughing softly, she continued her assault on his nipples until his hips began to grind upwards. "No, no, Ty. You have to lay still, or I'll stop," she warned him.  
  
Slowly she began to lick her way down his body, each tiny lick being followed by a kiss, until finally she began to lick under his waistband with her tongue. Dill smiled as Ty's erection forced its way through the fly of his pyjamas.  
  
"You look happy to see me," she whispered, her hot breath on him making him groan loudly.  
  
"Stop teasing me," he moaned as she pinned his hips to the bed with her hands.  
  
"What do you want, flyboy?" she asked him, looking into his eyes, now a deep, dark blue and filled with desire.  
  
"I want you to suck me, Dill. Please. Take me into your mouth and suck me, all of me. Deep throat me Dill, please!" he gasped, as she gently licked the tip of his penis. "Oh god, please, Dill... suck me."  
  
With a chuckle she obliged, sucking him long and hard, giggling as he tried desperately to lift his hips and fuck her mouth.  
  
"Dill... please!" Ty begged. "If you giggle like that again, I'll come."  
  
"No you won't, flyboy. I won't let you," she mumbled, continuing to suck him hard, her teeth gently scraping at his sensitive flesh as she lifted her head to look at him.  
  
"Dill," he moaned. "I'm coming!"  
  
Dill stopped, and began to gently stroke his stomach and chest until he'd calmed down and his breathing was regular. "Not yet, flyboy. Maybe next time, if you're a good boy and stop trying to move," she whispered into his soft blonde pubic hair, as her tongue again began to lick at his length.  
  
"Please, Dill - do it,"he groaned. "I promise I won't move, but please suck me. Suck me now. I think I might actually burst in a minute."  
  
With a giggle, she sucked him into her mouth, swirling her tongue around him and sucking hard on the sensitive tip. She fucked his slit with her tongue, causing him to cry out when she stopped.  
  
"Please, Dill, don't stop! Oh god, Dill... please!"  
  
"That's want I want to hear. Beg for it, Ty. You know you want it," she grinned wickedly.  
  
"Suck me, Dill. Use your pokey finger... I want your pokey finger. Please, Dill. Fuck me and suck me, please," Ty begged her.  
  
"Good boy," she smiled, sucking on her finger. As she slipped her hand between the firm, well muscled cheeks of his behind, her mouth descended once again on his by now twitching cock, making him buck upwards as he felt her finger slip inside him. "No moving!" she told him.  
  
"Sorry," he groaned. "I couldn't help it - you hit the spot first time with that finger. How do you do it?"  
  
"It's a homing finger," she chuckled, gently stroking his prostate. "It knows just where to go."  
  
"Oh, yes," he sighed, as she stroked him in time with each suck on his rigid cock, until he could barely speak and his breathing was fast and shallow.  
  
"No!"he cried, as once again she stopped, this time just long enough to remove her shorts and underwear, before climbing on top of him and sliding down his length.  
  
"Oh, yeah," Ty groaned, clutching at the sheets as Dill began to move up and down on him. His overwhelming urge was to flip her over and pound himself inside her, but he knew if he did that, this would be the last time they made love - probably until his next leave. Instead, he held her in place, supporting her as she rode him to orgasm, his hips thrusting upwards beyond his control as he came, followed swiftly by her own orgasm.  
  
Dill collapsed on top of him, her breathing fast and ragged. "Jeez, Ty - this being in control business sure is hard work!" she gasped.  
  
He chuckled. "It sure is, but what's with the bossiness? I never had you down as a dominatrix!"  
  
"Oh, stop it!" Dill giggled, rolling off him and searching for her underwear.  
  
"I mean it," Ty grinned. "All this 'let me hear you beg' stuff?"  
  
"And you did!" she giggled, slipping into her shorts.  
  
"Of course I did. You had me so worked up, how could I not?" he laughed. "Am I going to have to buy you a sexy black leather outfit for your birthday?" he teased.  
  
"Just some cuffs and a whip will suffice!" she grinned, poking her tongue out at him.  
  
"Yes, mistress," he laughed.  
  
"Hey, you know far too much about this for my liking!" Dill cried. "Done it before, have you?"  
  
"That's for me to know...."  
  
"And me to find out!" she laughed. "You're a dark horse, Tyrus McQueen - you truly are!"  
  
"Me? No - what you see is what you get," he laughed.  
  
Her eyes widened. "That is so not true! Even after five years, I still don't know everything about you that I'd like to."  
  
"It works both ways,"he told her, sitting up and doing up his pyjamas as she went to unlock the door. "There's still plenty about you I don't know."  
  
"That I doubt," she smiled, coming to cuddle with him. "I've always shown you the real me - whole and complete. "  
  
"Are you saying I put on a front for you?" he asked, puzzled.  
  
"No, I know you don't. You let go and relax with me and the children. And I love seeing you do it. But you never tell me anything about you - about your life - other than as a marine. I know it's painful for you, but then it creeps out a tiny bit at a time, generally causing us grief. Wouldn't it be better just to let it all out? Do you think I might not love you if I found out just where you've been... what you've done, or had done to you?" Dill looked up at him, her eyes shining brightly with her love.  
  
"I can't, Dill," Ty sighed. "I can't talk about it; it's too hard. One day, maybe, but not yet. I've been locking it away for twenty-five years, and that's a hard habit to break. I'm sorry, Dill."  
  
"It's okay," she smiled. "One day we'll get there, I'm sure. But I'll love you no matter what your history is, Ty. I swear."  
  
"I know that, Dill. That's why I love you. Can I keep you forever and for always?"  
  
"Just try getting rid of me, mister!" she laughed.  
  
"I never want to lose you, Dill. I'd never do anything to risk that. Not ever." Ty whispered, kissing her softly and holding her tight.  
  
She looked up at him. "Where did that come from?"  
  
"A few days ago I talked with your mother. She told me a few things I'd been too blind to see for myself. I've had the time to think long and hard about what she said, and I want you to know, no matter how far away I am, or how long we're apart, I made a commitment to you when we married, and I'd never do anything to damage that. Yes, I get approached by women, but my kids usually intercept most of them," he smiled. "They think I don't know. They look out for me, Dill, but I'd never look at another woman. Why should I? I have you; you're the only woman I want."  
  
"What about men?" she teased. "Do you want other men instead?"  
  
McQueen frowned at her. "I was forced to have, and be had, by men when I was in the mines. I don't want men, Dill. I much prefer women. You in particular. You're all I need."  
  
"Oh, Ty," she sighed. "I know that was a hard thing for you to say."  
  
"But true," he smiled. "What have you done to me, Dill? Before I met you, I could never have talked about stuff like this. I didn't understand it. I couldn't cope with it. I didn't know how to, but you seem to have made me do it without me realising."  
  
"It wasn't me. Blame those kids of yours. You were learning about real love from them before I came along. I have a lot to thank them for. I'm sure if you hadn't begun to understand about caring for people, you would never have flirted with me." Dill looked up at him. "In that strange, confrontational way that you did."  
  
"Do you want the truth?" Ty asked her.  
  
"Always."  
  
"I fell in love with you when I saw you hunched up on your bed, looking terrified. It looked like you thought I was going to hit you. But that feeling... it scared me. I was trying to scare you off, make you think I was angry with you, so you'd stop smiling that smile at me. That one that makes my heart leap," Ty told her.  
  
Dill smiled at him, confused. "But... you knocked on my door. You took the next step."  
  
"The step that bound us together for always," he grinned. "You want the truth about that too?"  
  
She wriggled in his arms. "Don't let me stop this honesty kick you're on. Go with it, Ty."  
  
"'Phousse,"he told her. "I was in the Tun, at the bar, and she asked me if I was okay, as I looked a little down. Hawkes said something along the lines of 'you should see him when we have to see Dylan'. She gave me this long hard stare, and then shook her head and went off with Hawkes, but came back to tell me to go for it." Ty chuckled. "I told her I had no idea what she was talking about..."  
  
"In your best 'I'm your CO' voice, I bet!" Dill laughed.  
  
"That's the one," he smiled. "But she smiled at me and simply said, 'yes, you do colonel' and walked away. She was right of course; I knew exactly what she meant. I sat there for another hour before I plucked up the courage. I swear my knees were shaking when I knocked on your door."  
  
"You did look a bit nervous,"Dill chuckled. "I was terrified. You frightened the life out of me most of the time, so stiff and formal. I was attracted to you almost from the start. I remember walking – no, running, because you walked so fast - along behind you, looking at your neck and thinking how lovely it was. The desire to kiss it was overwhelming. That first session was the worst... rolling up the leg on your flight suit, the feel of your foot in my hands, the hairs on your leg." She shivered. "I can still feel it, even now. It really turned me on."  
  
"I know,"he grinned. "It was written all over your face."  
  
"That's why you did the wheelbarrow,"she said, realisation dawning. "You swine!"  
  
"I had such a hard on when I did that, I'm surprised you didn't feel it!" Ty laughed.  
  
"I was trying so hard not to let the fact that you were so close get to me, that I doubt I would have felt a chig attack!" Dill laughed. "Mind you, by that time I was in such a state, you could have made love to me there and then."  
  
"I'm glad I waited," her husband whispered. "You surprised the hell out of me though. I'd convinced myself that you'd never slept with anyone before - that I'd be your first."  
  
"Instead you found I was a slut who knew her way around a man's body pretty well!"  
  
"I have never thought you a slut, Dill! I mean, come on - you weren't my first, but you never called me anything like that," he said reasonably.  
  
"It's different for men though. It's okay to have a history...."  
  
"I certainly have one of those!" Ty laughed.  
  
"You know what I mean!" Dill scolded him, slapping his chest.  
  
"I do,"he smiled. "I'm glad it wasn't your first time. It just surprised me a little when you whipped my pants off so quickly."  
  
"Well, as I recall, we didn't even get to finish our first drinks before you were on top of me!" she giggled.  
  
"I know," he grinned. "I couldn't help myself. I needed you so badly. But I was terrified you'd push me away - not want me like I wanted you."  
  
"There was never any danger of that!" Dill laughed.  
  
"But I didn't know that then, did I? I know it now. I know you're damned insatiable, and you only want me for my body," Ty teased.  
  
"What can you expect; it's such a damn fine and sexy body," his wife chuckled.  
  
There was a tap at the door, and a nurse popped her head around. "Mrs. McQueen? There's a call for you, from Dr. Mackenzie."  
  
"Damn," Dill sighed. "Okay. Thank you - I'm on my way."  
  
She got up from the bed and headed for the nurses station, returning a few minutes later looking rather weary.  
  
"Sorry, my lover, but I have to go. Cameron is playing mother up, far worse than usual. This time he's throwing his food around. It's times like this when I wish I believed in smacking them."  
  
"You don't smack them?" Ty asked her, puzzled.  
  
"No, of course not. They're babies,"she told him.  
  
"But if they need it, why not? Everyone needs discipline."  
  
"True, but you can discipline them without smacking. I have smacked for dangerous things, like the time Hamish poked his fingers in a plug socket, and he needed to know straightaway that it was a bad thing to do. But just for tempers? Definitely not. Time out works best with Cameron. No audience, you see?"  
  
"How the hell did he get to a socket? You have those damn cover things I could never get off!"  
  
"I left one uncovered, so really it was my fault. I could have killed our baby, and as it was, I had to smack his hand. I felt awful for days. But he's never done it since." Dill kissed him, her hand rubbing his groin. "I have to go. I'll be back to collect you tomorrow. Mother says she'll come in to see you later, if you'd like."  
  
"Tell her thank you. I'd like that."  
  
With a final kiss, she left him, and he lay down thinking about how good it would be being home with his family.  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
The following day Ty arrived home to a hero's welcome. The boys ran out of the door and across the lawn, wrapping themselves around his legs, before Moira reminded them about his new leg. Standing back, they both proudly showed him the welcome home cards they'd made for him. Though a bit disappointed that he was unable to pick them up, or hold their hands, they nevertheless led the way round the house to the patio at the back, where Isobel sat happily digging in the sand tray, her face splitting into a wide grin as she saw him. Moira came through the backdoor, a tray of drinks in her hands, as Dill arrived, having deposited his sea bag indoors and now determined to ensure he sat down and rested. Ty allowed himself to be settled in a large and comfortable recliner, handed a drink, which to his disgust was non-alcoholic, and generally fussed over, happy to be back in the loving bosom of his family, content in the knowledge that tonight he would be sleeping in his own bed, cuddled with his wife, and waking to find his sons no doubt jumping up and down on the bed.  
  
~~~~~~~~~ 


	4. 4

Promo 4.  
  
Dill woke up when, after rolling over, she discovered that the lean, lithe body she'd expected to find next to her in the bed wasn't there. She reached further, coming fully awake as she realised it wasn't just that he'd moved to the edge of the bed as he sometimes did, but that he wasn't there at all. Peering at the clock in the dark she could see that it was still early - 2 am. She lay for a little while waiting for him to come back from the bathroom trip she imagined he was making. When he hadn't returned by ten past, according to the clock, she threw back the covers, and grabbing a t-shirt from the drawer and pulling it on, went to look for him.  
  
The house was in darkness, and as she wandered into the kitchen, Dill glanced through the door into the garden. There, sitting on a chair, wearing nothing more than a frown, Ty sat, peering out at the flowing river, looking for all the world like a marble statue as the moonlight reflected on his pale skin. She stood and watched him for a moment before returning to their bedroom to fetch him some clothes.  
  
As Dill stepped through the doorway into the garden, she could almost feel the fear emanating from him. She sighed, knowing that something was wrong as she walked over to him. She was amazed at how still he was, not turning to face her even though she knew he'd heard her approach.  
  
"Ty?" she inquired. "I brought you some clothes; you must be cold sitting there."  
  
He still didn't move, until she put her hand on his shoulder. Then he was up, and before she knew it, her arm was being forced up her back as he held her close and hissed in her ear, "I know what you are. I saw Kylen on Kazbek, and you can't fool me!"  
  
"You're hurting me!" Dill cried, struggling against him and dropping the clothing she held. She was frightened despite herself. "Ty, please!"  
  
"How do you know my name? Tell me, or I'll break it!" he growled, pushing her arm further up her back.  
  
"Because you're my husband." Dill gasped back sobs of pain. "Ty, please... I don't know who or what you think I am, but it's me – Dill. I swear."  
  
"I'm divorced; your intel is out of date."  
  
The pressure increased on her arm until she could barely breathe through the pain. Dill was certain Ty'd break her arm, and probably her neck too, if she couldn't bring him out of the nightmare she was sure he was trapped in. "The boys, Ty... think about the boys. Cameron and his Cashus. Hamish and his blankie," she groaned as the pressure stopped just for a second. "Do you remember seeing them born? You told me you'd never dreamt that you could feel love like that. Izzy, Ty, remember her? That little roly-poly daughter of yours. The one you were playing with today, nibbling her toes. Remember?" Dill cried out as the pressure increased again.  
  
"It's not true," McQueen growled. "Get out of my head. You can't make me believe it!"  
  
"I'm not in your head, Ty,"she squealed, as he slowly applied more pressure. "Please, Ty. My arm's going to break, and that's the one with my pokey finger!" Dill didn't know why she said it. It seemed such a stupid thing to say in the circumstances, but as she said it, the pressure decreased.  
  
"Your pokey finger?" Ty whispered.  
  
"Oh, god," she moaned, as the pain receded. "Yes, my lover, my pokey finger. Please. Let me go. You're hurting me, and I know you'll regret it afterwards." It was the wrong thing to say. Her arm shot up her back again as he gripped her tighter. Dill let out a scream, only to find his hand clamped over her mouth.  
  
"Try screaming now, chiggy spooge," McQueen whispered.  
  
She bit him hard; his hand left her mouth long enough for her to cry. "I'm not a chig. Cut me, watch me bleed. I bleed red, not green."  
  
"Good idea," he growled. "I'll cut your throat." McQueen began dragging her towards the house.  
  
* Way to go, girl * Dill thought. * Your husband's gone psycho, and you encourage him to kill you. *  
  
When they reached the door, he hoisted her into his arms. Still gripped so tightly she could barely breathe, Dill found herself flung down onto the kitchen table with her beloved husband leaning over her, a knife to her throat. She stared up into his eyes, seeing the terror in them, knowing it must mirror the terror in her own. For a brief second she closed hers, trying to compose herself, knowing that she was about to die. She opened them as she felt the pressure of the knife on her throat, determined that she wouldn't be afraid; that if she was going to die at the hands of the man she loved, she would at least be looking at him when he killed her.  
  
"I'm sorry, Ty," she whispered, as she felt the first slice on her throat. Tears of pain came into her eyes, blurring her vision, before suddenly the knife was gone, clattering to the floor, and she was being pulled up, clutched to Ty like a rag doll.  
  
"Dill!" he cried, cradling her in his arms. "It is you. You are real!"  
  
"Ty?" she whispered, not sure what was going on, just glad to be still alive.  
  
"What have I done to you?" Ty sobbed. "I'm sorry, Dill... I'm so sorry!" He carried her upstairs to their bathroom, not caring how much noise he made as he laid her down on the floor and began searching for the medical kit. Finally he ran for his sea bag, and dragging it back with him, emptied it onto the floor before rummaging for the kit he always carried. Kneeling beside her, tears streamed down his face as he cleaned the wound on her throat. "It's not deep. I saw the blood and saw what I was doing to you." He hung his head. "I'm sorry, Dill. I'm dangerous. You should never have married me."  
  
Dill reached out to him, her hand on his arm. "Ty, it's alright. Really."  
  
"I nearly killed you!" he cried. "How can that be alright!"  
  
"Why?"she asked him. "What happened with Kylen on Kazbek?"  
  
For a second he looked at her fearfully, then his eyes wandered to the blood on her throat. "How... how do you know about that?" he whispered.  
  
"You told me. You said you'd seen Kylen on Kazbek. "  
  
Dill tried to sit up. Ty took her in his arms and carried her to their bedroom, lying her down on the bed and climbing in next to her, holding her in his arms, his whole body trembling as he spoke. "West thought it was Kylen, but it wasn't. It was some... some ...construct. A chig... something... but he shot it and it turned to spooge there at our feet. I thought you were one of those."  
  
"Why? Why did you think I was one of those?" Dill asked, her hand reaching to her throat. She could feel blood running down. "I think this needs a dressing, Ty."  
  
"I'll get Moira,"he whispered.  
  
"No, you do it, and tell me what happened," she told him, deciding that she needed to take charge. Ty was in no fit state to be interrogated by her mother.  
  
"Okay, Dill," he whispered, his eyes filling with tears again. He got up from the bed, reluctant to let go of her, and went to fetch a dressing from his med kit.  
  
Sitting on the bed beside her, he securely wrapped her throat before pulling her up into his arms, sobbing into her neck, "I nearly killed you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I love you so much, and I nearly killed you."  
  
"Tell me, Ty. Tell me what happened. Were you having a nightmare?"  
  
He nodded. "Yes," he whispered. "A bad one."  
  
"Let's lie down and you can tell me about it," Dill told him. "Come on - lie down."  
  
Ty laid her back down and snuggled up next to her, his whole body trembling again, as she reached to pull the covers up.  
  
"Now, tell me," she ordered.  
  
"I dreamt I was back with the AI's. They were torturing me, feeding me drugs and giving me false memories," Ty sobbed as he told her. "I dreamt that we were at the beach; you, me and the little guys. I was playing with them, building sandcastles for them to run through and kick over with their little feet. I remember thinking how much I loved those little brown feet... how happy I was. You were rubbing sunscreen into my back, massaging me while the boys played. We were almost having sex right there in front of the boys. It was a good dream. I was really aroused by it, by the feel of your hands. Then I woke up and they were laughing at me. I was tied naked to a table and an Elroy was massaging me, making me hard, asking me if I'd like more happy families... did I really believe a tank like me deserved such a life... that all I deserved was to be fucked by AI's like him." He stopped and buried his head into her shoulder, his whole body racked with sobs. "I'm sorry, Dill."  
  
She held him close, pulling his head to her breast, offering him her nipple, but he pulled away. "I don't deserve that," he whispered.  
  
"You need it," she told him. "Now relax and when you're ready, carry on." She lay there, stroking his head as he suckled her breast, feeling the tenseness in his body retreating at the familiar comfort. "That really happened, Ty. I remember that day; it was lovely. We were at Glen's beach house. We spent the whole day on the beach. The boys exhausted themselves and went to bed early..." She stopped as Ty's mouth left her nipple.  
  
"Did we make love out on the terrace?" he whispered.  
  
"Oh, yes - three times, as I recall. And boy did you ride my pokey finger," Dill chuckled. "I think we conceived Izzy that night."  
  
"In my dream I woke up to find that your pokey finger was Elroy fucking me. I was tied face down to the table and spread-eagled across it."  
  
"Hang on," she said, confused. "You dreamed that you had a dream?"  
  
"Yes. I was having this perfect day, ending in some wonderful lovemaking with you, and I woke up to find that it was the AI's feeding me false memories and doing stuff to me. Just like they did in real life. And then I really woke up, and I didn't know which was the dream - the perfect day or the AI's. I was convinced the beach was the dream, and that they were doing it again. I had to get away. I didn't want Elroy touching me again!" McQueen began to shake again, the terror plain to hear in his voice.  
  
"Okay, time to relax again,"Dill told him, pulling his head to her breast again. This time he took it eagerly, desperate for the comfort it gave him.  
  
After a few minutes Ty stopped. "When you came out into the garden, I thought they'd sent you - that it was a trick. I knew I couldn't have a family... a wife. How could I? I couldn't have a child. That's why my wife divorced me. So you had to be some evil device of theirs, sent to torment me even further. Look what I did to you - I nearly killed you. How can you ever forgive me? I'm dangerous; it's not safe for the children to be around me," he whispered.  
  
"You would never hurt the children, Ty. Never. It's not in you to hurt innocent children; even if they're chig children, you couldn't do it."  
  
"We bombed their home world," her husband whispered.  
  
"But you didn't kill any children with your bare hands, did you?" Dill asked him reasonably.  
  
"No, but ..."  
  
"No buts, Tyrus McQueen. You know it as well as I do. So stop it. These things happen in times of war. It doesn't mean you've turned into a child killer."  
  
"What if I'm losing my mind?" McQueen whispered fearfully. "This isn't the first dream like this I've had... the first time it's happened."  
  
"It isn't?"  
  
"No. I had one like it on the 'Toga," he sighed. "I fell asleep in Glen's quarters after coming back from a mission. He was playing his guitar and I nodded off. I dreamt about the time Hawkes and I came to Scotland... the day you took us for that walk up the mountain and Hawkes got excited because he saw a red squirrel. We were holding hands, you and me, and you kept kissing me whenever Hawkes was looking away. In fact, you kept saying to him, 'oh look, another squirrel!'. I woke up to find that Elroy and Felicity were laughing at me, telling me I had no friends. No one who loved me, no one who wanted me for more than a quick fuck. Felicity was sucking me off and Elroy was fucking me so hard my whole body was shaking." Ty paused. "Only it wasn't Elroy - it was Glen."  
  
"Glen was fucking you?"  
  
"No. He was shaking me because I was crying out in my sleep. It took him a long time to convince me it was really him - that he was a real person, not some figment of my imagination. But at least I didn't try to kill him. I saved that particular horror for you."  
  
"It's alright, Ty. I understand. What matters is that you didn't kill me. You trusted me enough to believe that it really was me."  
  
"Only after I almost sliced your throat open," Ty whispered, reaching to gently touch her bandaged throat.  
  
"And who opened her mouth and said 'cut me'? How stupid can I get?" Dill asked. "I still love you, Ty. It doesn't change a thing, and I want you to know that."  
  
"I don't deserve you," he whispered, tears falling again.  
  
"Yes, you do. You've been to hell and back, to get where you are today. The very least you deserve is what everyone else expects to come naturally. Happiness. A family that loves and adores you. A wife who understands you... knows that you can't help these dreams... that you're not yourself when you have them. I could feel your fear, Ty, when I went into the garden. But it didn't stop me. I needed to help you... I wanted to help you. And do you know why?" Ty didn't speak, but Dill felt his head shake against her shoulder. "Because I love you, Ty, and I couldn't let you go through it again alone. I'm prepared to take whatever you dish out in a situation like that, because I love you." She felt his body tremble again at her words. "Easy, Ty, easy," she whispered, hugging him close. "I was prepared to die tonight because I knew you couldn't help yourself."  
  
"But you shouldn't have to put up with it," he whispered.  
  
"And neither should you. But you do. And so will I. And, no doubt, so will the children."  
  
"The children," Ty whispered. "They'll grow up thinking their father is deranged."  
  
"No they won't. They might wonder where I got the bruises from, and my arm and shoulder are going to ache like hell tomorrow, and heaven knows what mother will say, but I can explain it. What matters is that I love you. I won't leave you because of it. Never forget that."  
  
"I love you so much, Dill," he told her, reaching up to stroke her face, a small smile flitting across his own.  
  
Dill took his hand. His left hand. "Ty, where's your ring?"  
  
He pulled his hand away and buried his head in her shoulder, muffling his words. "I don't know. I remember seeing it, thinking it was another trick of the AI's. I took it off... I think I threw it away. I'm sorry, Dill. It was a beautiful ring. I'm sorry."  
  
She sighed. "It's okay. It was only a ring. I can find you another."  
  
"It wasn't only a ring, Dill. It was my wedding ring... a ring that you gave to me. It was special. It had meaning to me... and I threw it away," Ty told her mournfully.  
  
"Throwing your wedding ring away is nothing compared to waking up to find you've killed your wife,"Dill reminded him. "On balance, I'm glad it was the ring and not me."  
  
"Since you put it that way, so am I," Ty chuckled.  
  
Relieved to hear the small laugh, Dill smiled. "Come on now, my lover. I think we both need to get some sleep. I don't know about you, but I feel like I've been trampled by a herd of elephants."  
  
McQueen shuffled up the bed, kissing her shoulder and her ear. "I need more than sleep, Dill. Please, let me show you how much I love you. Please, I need to feel you... to feel myself inside you. Please."  
  
"Oh, Ty,"she sighed, as his hot breath blew gently in her ear. "You shouldn't. You should sleep."  
  
"Please, Dill,"he pleaded, as he began licking at her collarbone, his tongue gently tracing across her shoulders and down between her breasts.  
  
She gasped as he nipped at a nipple and she felt his hand slip between her thighs. "How can I say no when you ask so nicely?" she mumbled, her hips thrusting into his hand. His fingers plunged deep inside her as his head slipped lower and lower down her body, softly kissing and licking his way to her navel, swirling his tongue around it's edge before dipping inside whilst blowing his hot breath softly across it.  
  
Ty smiled as her hands gripped his head, pushing his face into her softly curling pubic hair. "Do it, Ty," Dill moaned.  
  
"My pleasure," her husband whispered, as his tongue flicked across her moist core. He removed his fingers and thrust his tongue inside her instead, making her cry out and buck upwards into his face.  
  
Using just his tongue, he had her in a frenzy of writhing and bucking, begging him to fuck her, before he finally moved to push himself deep inside her hot, wet centre. Pushing hard and fast as the sensations of her body around his rigid throbbing cock brought him quickly to an orgasm, and he collapsed on top of her, gasping for breath. Still hard inside her, he began to pump again, this time far more forcefully. Gripping her shoulders to stop her moving as she cried out, her orgasm intensified was by his speed. Still he didn't stop. Pounding away at her faster and faster, the headboard banged against the wall. His breath was shallow with the effort, his eyes tightly closed as he forced himself deeper and deeper, until grabbing her, he flipped her over and pulled her up towards him, entering her from behind so that he could penetrate her as deeply as possible.  
  
Dill gripped the headboard, bracing herself as he pounded away, unsure quite what was wrong. But she knew something was, as he continued to mindlessly pump away at her, his cock rubbing on her clit, stimulating her again to the point of frenzy as she began thrusting backwards onto him.  
  
Ty's hands gripped Dill's hips, steadying her and holding her still, as he leant down to whisper in her ear, "Take it!"  
  
Not sure what he meant, she reached to massage his testicles, but he slapped her hand away. "No," he moaned, withdrawing from her and once again flipping her over. This time though he positioned himself so that he could fuck her mouth.  
  
Dill's eyes widened as Ty thrust into her, forcing her to take his whole length at one go. Ignoring her gagging, he pounded into her mouth until he came, with a body shuddering orgasm that filled her throat and spilled out of her mouth. He dripped over her chin as he withdrew and slumped down onto the bed, his chest heaving as he tried to get his breath back.  
  
Wiping her mouth, she sat up and stared at him. "What the hell was that about?"  
  
"What?" he asked, bewildered. "That! Flinging me about, practically suffocating me, that's what." Dill saw the fear flash across his face and sighed. "You were making sure it was really me, weren't you? Seeing if it was another dream?"  
  
Ty nodded and turned away from her, his voice low. "I'm sorry, Dill. I couldn't help myself."  
  
Dill kissed his shoulder, holding him as he flinched away from her. "It's okay, baby. I understand, I think. Now roll back over this way and let me hold you. I think you're in more need of a cuddle than I am."  
  
Ty rolled to lie on his back and looked up at her, his eyes glistening with tears. "Why do you always say its okay? It's not okay for me to hurt you. I nearly slit your throat, and you tell me its okay." He rolled into her open arms and sobbed against her chest. "I don't know what to do. I don't know how to control it. I can't keep on like this, Dill. When it happens on the 'Toga, I'm alone and I don't hurt anyone. But here I hurt you, and I can't bear it anymore."  
  
"First of all, you're going to get some rest. I just realised you've been running about on that leg without your crutches. Let's hope you haven't damaged it! And in the morning we'll get you someone to talk to." Dill lifted McQueen's head to look into his eyes. "The time has come for you to offload it, Ty. I know you don't want to talk about it, but you need to. You can't let it keep doing this to you."  
  
Ty shook his head. "I can't, Dill. It's still too painful."  
  
"You have to, my lover. You nearly killed me tonight, you were so out of control. You need to talk to a professional... someone who will help you. Not a trick cyclist necessarily; perhaps a rape counsellor would be better."  
  
"A trick cyclist?" he sobbed.  
  
"A psychiatrist," Dill smiled.  
  
"Oh,"Ty whispered. "But a rape counsellor?"  
  
"Just how many times have you been raped, Ty? Can you even remember? Think about all those times in the mines...if you struggled against it, Ty, then it was rape. If you didn't want it...it was rape." His silence told her all she needed to know. "You don't have to talk to me about it. I know you don't want me to know. But I'm making you an appointment to talk to someone, and you will talk to them, Ty. Don't just tell them what you think they want to hear. Tell them the truth. Let them help you."  
  
"Yes, Dill," Ty whispered, nuzzling her breast.  
  
"Good boy. Now off to sleep with you." Dill smiled as Ty began suckling, his eyes closed and his hand pressed against her, gently kneading her breast. "Sleep, my lover. You'll feel so much better in the morning."  
  
Dill watched him, waiting until she felt the suckling stop and her nipple pop out of his mouth as he began to softly snore, before she closed her eyes and settled to sleep. She prayed that the boys wouldn't join them in bed in the morning. Her shoulder and arm hurt like hell, and her throat felt tender, and she was still figuring out what to tell her mother. A soft sound made her open her eyes just as she was drifting off, and she saw her mother moving slowly around in their bathroom, tidying up, carrying his sea bag back into the bedroom, frowning as she glanced at the bed.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Waking up later that morning, Dill glanced at the clock. 09:30. She frowned. * Surely the boys should have been in by now? * Reaching down to disentangle herself from Ty, who had wrapped himself around her, she climbed out of bed, wincing at the pain in her right arm and shoulder, and padded softly to the bathroom. She stared in the mirror at her bandaged throat, before gently removing the blood-stained dressing and gently washing the blood away to get a good look at her husband's handiwork.  
  
"What the hell happened last night?" came her mother's voice, softly from the hall doorway.  
  
Sighing, Dill turned to face her after closing the door that led to their bedroom. "Don't freak out on me, mother."  
  
"Oh my god - your throat!" Moira cried.  
  
"Shush! Don't you wake him," Dill whispered.  
  
"What happened, Dylan? I woke up during the night and your lights were on. I could hear someone sobbing. I thought for a moment it was one of the children, and then I realised it was TC. And now you look like you were attacked by Jack the Ripper!"  
  
"You came in here and tidied up, didn't you? I thought I saw you just before I fell asleep."  
  
"Yes, I did, and I overheard some of your conversation," Moira admitted with a sad smile.  
  
"How much?" Dill asked her, sitting on the edge of the bath.  
  
"Enough to know there's a lot going on in that boy's head that needs dealing with. And I think you're right - a rape counsellor is what he needs. Someone who isn't connected with the military and has had experience with tanks before," Moira told her. "I hope you don't mind, but I've already put out feelers to find someone. It needs to be the right person if you really want it to help him, and that's going to be hard to do. Someone not too young... definitely not a man..."  
  
"Why not a man?" Dill asked, her hand reaching to feel her throat.  
  
"Because the way his mind seems to work, he'd expect a man to judge him, to tell him he should get over it. That he should have been able to stop it. That he was a wuss for not being strong enough. And that is not what he needs. It wouldn't necessarily be so, but if he went in believing it, it could do more damage than good," Moira told her. "And a woman will see a rape victim, and treat him as such. Now let me see that throat of yours." She lifted Dill's head and examined her throat. "He did this to you?" At Dill's nod, she sighed. "I see why you told him he needs help. This is a knife wound."  
  
"It's not his fault. He was having a nightmare and thought I was an AI or a chig or something. I told him to cut me to see me bleed," Dill said as her mother cleaned her throat and found a fresh dressing.  
  
"Could you have said a more stupid thing? He's a marine, for goodness sake. Red rag to a bull!"  
  
"That did occur to me as he was dragging me indoors to get a knife," Dill chuckled. "But it's alright. I'm still here, aren't I? Where are the children? They didn't come in to see us."  
  
"No. I told them you needed to sleep. They're downstairs watching cartoons on the TV. Hamish is looking after Izzy. He may not be as bright as Cameron, but he loves his sister to bits and he takes good care of her. Now you go back to bed with TC and I'll bring you a cup of tea up. Go on. Make sure he's alright this morning."  
  
"Yes, mother," Dill heard herself say as she slipped through the connecting door into the bedroom. She stood and looked at her husband, still asleep hugging the pillow where she'd lain, looking for all the world like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. His fair hair curled around his ears and at the nape of his neck, just covering his navel. She smiled. He needed a haircut again. She loved his hair short. Hell, face it - she just loved him. Despite his problems, he was hers. And even what happened last night couldn't change that. Planting a kiss on his cheek, she climbed into bed with him, smiling as immediately he loosed his hold on the pillow and pulled her in close to him, mumbling her name in his sleep.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
A few minutes later there was a tap on the door, and Moira popped her head around. "Is he still asleep?" she asked. "Or do you need another cup?"  
  
"He's still asleep, but I'd kill for that cup in your hand, mother. I'm gasping," Dill chuckled. "I'm not sure if I can untangle myself though." She tried sitting up, and eventually had to peel his arm off her.  
  
"I hope you appreciate what his octopus act here is all about," Moira told her, coming into the room and handing her the tea before sitting on the edge of the bed.  
  
"Pardon?" Dill asked, puzzled.  
  
"Well, he obviously lets his guard down when he's asleep. That's why he has the nightmares. And this clinging to you - he'd never be seen doing that when he's awake. He used to get embarrassed if you kissed him in public," Moira reminded her. "But I noticed this leave he was much happier with you being so touchy feely."  
  
"I think he's got used to it, and he knows I wouldn't do anything to really embarrass him," Dill grinned wickedly, taking a sip from her tea. "I save that up for when we're in private."  
  
Moira raised an eyebrow. "What do you think woke me up last night? My bed is just the other side of this wall, and that was your headboard, I imagine."  
  
Dill blushed. "Sorry, he just got a little... well, het up... I guess. It was a bit scary, to tell the truth."  
  
"It was a release. After what he did to you, no doubt he was stressed. I expect it helped. He didn't hurt you, did he?" Her concern was evident in her voice.  
  
"I can't believe I'm talking about my sex life with you, mother," Dill blushed. "It's... well, it's odd."  
  
"Why? Do you think I don't know you two have sex? That you have three children is a giveaway, Dylan," Moira laughed. "And even if you didn't, I can't see you keeping your hands off him. I've seen you when you think no one's looking. Slipping your hands up his shirt or squeezing his behind. He used to jump, but he's become adept at hiding it now, the poor soul."  
  
"I know. He used to get cross about it, but now I only get that glare if he thinks I've taken it too far," Dill smiled shyly. "But you're my mother. It feels odd talking about my sex life with you. You know too much about me... it feels like you're going to tell me off."  
  
"Why on earth should I tell you off?" Moira laughed. "You're a grown woman – married, with a husband that you obviously find very attractive sexually. And he obviously feels the same. If you can't talk to your mother... well.... He doesn't hurt you normally though, does he, Dylan?" This time Moira blushed. "When your father and I... well, he was very strong. He had to hold back to prevent himself from hurting me. He never really ever fully... well, let go, I suppose. Our sex life must have been very unsatisfactory for him, and I've worried about you, Dylan. TC is a tank, after all, and he's much stronger than the boys you grew up with." At Dill's startled look, she smiled. "Of course I knew what you were up to. It was a much smaller community then, Dylan."  
  
Dill turned and smiled at her sleeping husband. "No," she whispered. "He's never hurt me like that. I'm half invitro, mother. I'm stronger than you were. Ty lets go, and I'm glad he feels confident enough to do that," she grinned impishly. "I know I certainly like it when he does! Do you think all invitros are so good in bed, or did I just get lucky?"  
  
Moira shook her head. "Well, considering what he's been through, it amazes me that he's interested at all. I should have thought it would have put him off for life."  
  
"Oh, he's interested, mother. Of that I have not the slightest doubt."  
  
"Judging by last night's performance, neither do I!" Moira laughed, getting up. "I need to check on my grandchildren. They must be ready for some breakfast. Shall I make something for you and TC, and bring it up to you?"  
  
"Yes, please!" Dill nodded, reaching to stroke his head. "It's lovely to see him so relaxed, and sleeping so soundly. I hate to wake him up."  
  
Moira looked at him critically. "You know, lying there like that, he looks just like Hamish, doesn't he? Such a sweetie. I half expect to see that thumb creeping up to his mouth." She laughed and walked away, closing the door behind her.  
  
Putting down her empty cup, Dill stretched and climbed out of bed. Feeling the need for a quick shower, she padded softly to the bathroom, and turning on the shower nice and hot, discarded her shirt, and climbed in with a sigh.  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
Ty rolled over onto his back. He'd woken up almost as soon as Moira had arrived, but had been too embarrassed by their conversation to let them know.  
  
* At least now I have an idea what the whole girl talk thing is about * he thought, smiling to himself at the thought that Dill had said that she enjoyed sex with him. Ty already knew it, but it felt good to hear her telling someone else, even if that someone was her mother. As he lay listening to the sounds of her showering, his thoughts ran over the events of the previous night. It had been pretty horrific for both of them, and it was going to take him a long time to forgive himself for what he'd done to her. He sighed. Had he really agreed to see a counsellor, or could he persuade her it wasn't necessary? Looking up as she came into the room wearing only a towel, he could see that it was. Across her throat ran a 6 inch cut. Ty looked away, unable to look at what he'd done to Dill. Shame and self loathing filled him.  
  
"Good morning, gorgeous!" Dill smiled. "Sleep well?"  
  
Ty nodded, too ashamed to look her in the eye.  
  
She sat down on the bed, towelling her hair. "What's up?"  
  
He glanced at her throat. "How can you ask that?" he whispered. "Look what I did to you."  
  
"We've had this conversation already, Ty - let's not have it again," Dill sighed, turning as the door flew open and Hamish hurtled in and jumped onto the bed.  
  
"Gamma's making pancakes!" he yelled, flinging himself on Ty. "Want pancakes, daddy? Stirrup?"  
  
"Stirrup?"Ty asked the excited little boy.  
  
"Stirrup on pancakes!" Hamish told him, wrapping his arms around his neck and kissing him. "Loves you, daddy," the boy whispered before jumping from the bed and running from the room.  
  
Dill laughed. "What was that about, I wonder?"  
  
"I don't know," he muttered. "Pass me my crutches, would you please? I need a shower."  
  
Dill looked at him appraisingly, passing him his crutches. "Do you want a hand? I could scrub your back for you,"she offered suggestively.  
  
"I can do it," he told her, standing himself up and heading for the bathroom.  
  
With a sigh, recognising the signs of his withdrawal, she left him to it. Dill was dressing as the door opened and her mother arrived with breakfast for them.  
  
"Here you go... pancakes, syrup and orange juice. Do you think TC would like some scrambled eggs?" she asked.  
  
"I'm damned if I know," Dill muttered, slipping into her shirt.  
  
"For goodness sake, what's wrong now?" Moira asked.  
  
"He's closing up on me," Dill sighed. "That means he's feeling guilty and doesn't know how to deal with it."  
  
"Feed him. Hold him. I'll take the children out. Make love to him, Dylan. Let him see how much you care for him."  
  
"If I thought he'd let me, I'd throw him on the floor and jump his bones. But he won't be interested right now, mother. He needs time to brood over it, and when he's finished beating himself up about it, he'll make love to me. But he needs time and space, so I think that's what I'll give him." Finishing dressing, Dill picked up her breakfast and headed out of the door and down the stairs to see her children.  
  
Moira stood and pondered; on the one hand she knew she really shouldn't interfere and that Dill was right - he needed time. But on the other, he'd had years to sort himself out and Dill was her daughter. Besides, Moira smiled to herself, however hard she tried to deny it, she'd developed a soft spot for Ty, and couldn't bear to watch the pair of them fighting it out again.  
  
Moira waited until she could hear the water running and opened the door to the bathroom. "TC, are you in the shower?"  
  
"Yes," came his wary reply.  
  
"I need to talk to you," she told him, putting the lid down on the toilet and taking a seat.  
  
"Not now," Ty told her, hoping she'd go away and leave him in peace.  
  
"Yes, now, TC. Right now, while you can't go anywhere." Moira heard his sigh over the sound of the water.  
  
"What do you want, Moira?" he asked.  
  
"To talk about last night. And before you say no, I'm not leaving until you talk to me about it. So you choose. We can talk and you'll be able to come eat your breakfast and get dressed, or you can stay in the shower all day."  
  
The water stopped and his head appeared around the shower curtain. "You'd better pass me a towel then."  
  
With a satisfied smile, Moira handed him a towel, laughing at the sour look he gave her. "It's no good, TC. There's no way she could have hidden that damage to her throat. I would have seen it even if you hadn't woken me in the night with all the noise you were making. So you'll just have to talk to me. Now come out of there and sit on the bath here. Let's talk this over properly."  
  
"I can see where Dill gets it from," Ty growled, getting out of the shower, the towel firmly wrapped around his waist. "I've said I'll see someone. What more do you want?"  
  
"I want you to stop taking it out on Dylan. You're feeling guilty, and you take it out on Dylan. That's not fair, TC," Moira told him calmly.  
  
"I'm not taking it out on her!" McQueen snapped. Seeing Moira's disbelieving look, he looked away. "It's hard seeing what I did to her. I love her more than I ever dreamt I could love anyone, and yet I still did that to her. What's worse is that she doesn't blame me. She understands." He stared at Moira. "How is it that she understands when I don't? "  
  
"She knows it's not your fault. She also knows that you can't keep it bottled up forever. She loves you, and she doesn't think any less of you because of what you do under the influence of your nightmares. Dill wants to be able to help you, to soothe your fears... to take care of you, but you withdraw and won't let her. That hurts her far more than she lets on. Watch her with the children, TC. The more you withdraw, the more attention she gives them. But what she really wants is not to be cuddling Cameron or Hamish, or even that little dumpling Izzy, but you. She does to them what she needs to do to you, but you won't let her. Let her fuss you. Let her touch you... hold you. Show her that you need her. Let her soothe your fears, TC, and you'll be surprised at how much better you feel. Most of all, though, listen to her. She talks a lot of sense. You do need to speak to a counsellor. I hope you don't mind, but I think I may have found you just the right one. She's based here in Mobile, and she has a lot of experience with rape. Male rape. And even better, she's an invitro rights worker, so she'll understand that aspect of it too."  
  
Ty stared at her, his face flushing. "Dill told you?" he whispered.  
  
"No, TC. I overheard you talking about it last night. Or rather, Dylan talking about it. You, I heard..." She looked at him appraisingly, not sure if she should tell him, but deciding that he needed to be pushed a little further. Moira stood up and headed for the door. "You, I heard crying."  
  
McQueen sat staring after her as the door swung shut.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
By the time he eventually arrived downstairs, after finding that getting dressed by himself proved something of a challenge with his knee joint sore and painful, and then discovering that he had to get down the stairs by the undignified method of shuffling down on his bottom, the children had breakfasted and were playing in the garden. Dill was busy doing laundry. Avoiding him, he was sure. And Moira was clearing up in the kitchen. She looked up as he came limping in.  
  
"You didn't use those last night, did you?" At the shake of his head, Moira shook her own. "Henry would freak if he knew, so I expect it's a good thing no one's going to tell him. Did you eat your breakfast?"  
  
"No," Ty told her, easing himself into a chair. "It was cold."  
  
"Would you like some eggs? Or some more pancakes? Or both?"  
  
"With stirrup?" he smiled.  
  
Moira laughed. "I think that will go into the family vocabulary. Maple Stirrup." She poured him some coffee. "I got you an appointment with the counsellor for tomorrow. You were lucky. She had a cancellation."  
  
"Moira..." Ty began.  
  
"Don't, TC. If you're going to tell me you've changed your mind, don't. The appointment is made and I'll take you myself if I have to. Though I'd rather Dylan took you." She looked him square in the eye. "There is no escape."  
  
"Then I guess I'd better have the pancakes," McQueen sighed, admitting defeat.  
  
"Good man," Moira smiled. "Now sit there and I'll get you those pancakes. Are you sure you don't want eggs as well? French toast perhaps? You could do with feeding up."  
  
"Just pancakes please," he smiled.  
  
Dill came in with a basket of washing. "So you're finally up and about. Why didn't you call me? I would have helped you with the stairs."  
  
"I managed," Ty said, avoiding looking at her throat as she put the basket on the chair beside him and began folding the laundry.  
  
"Well, next time call me. You could easily have a fall. And if you damage that leg, you could be invalided out." Dill stared at him. "You wouldn't want that now, would you?"  
  
"No ma'am," he said meekly, as Moira put a plate in front of him.  
  
"Dylan, stop it," Moira said. "He's not five years old. If he wants to fall down the stairs, that's his prerogative"  
  
"I'll ask for help next time. I promise," he told them both with a grin.  
  
"Good," Dill smiled. "Because I don't want you hurting yourself. Knowing you, though, you'd come up with a bounce." She came up behind him and ruffled his hair, kissing the back of his neck. "Now eat your breakfast. The children are waiting to see you. Hamish wants you to play pirates with him; he has some mad idea that you'll build him a boat."  
  
"Ah," he mumbled through a mouthful of pancake.  
  
Dill stopped the folding she'd gone back to, a small royal blue shirt in her hand. "And just what does that mean? You didn't tell him you would, did you?"  
  
"When we were playing in the sand box yesterday, he asked me to build him a boat. I said I would," he shrugged. "I thought he meant with the sand."  
  
"Well, he seems to think you're going to build him a boat and the two of you are going to sail it away down the river!" she giggled. "Poor Hamish. He'll be so disappointed."  
  
The sound of crying filled the air as Cameron appeared in the doorway. "Hamish hit me!" he wailed.  
  
"Oh sweetie," Dill exclaimed, picking him up for a cuddle. "Why did he hit you?"  
  
"I wanted to see his treasure!" he cried, the tears rolling down his cheeks.  
  
"Show mummy where he hit you," she asked him.  
  
"He hit me with the bucket! On my head!"  
  
"Oh dear, what a bad boy he is," Dill told him, kissing his head. "Why don't you stay here with daddy and Gamma while I go and tell him off." She sat the boy on Ty's lap and started for the door, before turning to ask, "Did you bite him, Cameron?"  
  
"A bit" he admitted, fidgeting.  
  
"Was that before or after he hit you with the bucket?" Ty asked him.  
  
"He wouldn't let me see his treasure," Cameron whispered.  
  
"So you bit him and he hit you with the bucket?" Dill sighed.  
  
Cameron nodded.  
  
"Cameron, we've talked about biting, haven't we?" Ty said sternly. "McQueens don't bite, do they?"  
  
"No, daddy," the little boy whispered.  
  
Dill shook her head and went to see how Hamish's bite was.  
  
"Shall I bite you?" Ty asked him. "Would you like it? Would it make you cry?"  
  
Cameron's eyes filled with tears again. "Don't bite me, daddy. I won't do it again."  
  
"Make sure that you don't, or I will bite you and see if you like it."  
  
"Will you hit Hamish with the bucket?"  
  
"Why would I hit Hamish with the bucket?" he asked as Cameron looked up at him.  
  
"He hit me with the bucket. Do McQueens hit with buckets, daddy?"  
  
"No, they don't," Ty told him, looking up as Moira chuckled. "McQueens don't do bad things like that." As he said it, he could feel himself flushing, knowing that one particular McQueen had done a very bad thing last night.  
  
Dill came through the door with Isobel in her arms and holding Hamish's hand. "Look daddy, Hamish has a treasure for you."  
  
Hamish ran to him with a wide grin. "Look daddy – pirate's treasure!" He glared at Cameron. "He wanted it. It's mine!" He held out his hand, in which sat Ty's wedding ring.  
  
"That's great, little guy. Where did you find it?" Ty asked with a smile. "Lucky you."  
  
"The grass, by the water...." Hamish stopped, aware of his mistake.  
  
"You went down to the water?" Ty asked, frowning at him.  
  
"Yes, daddy," Hamish admitted sheepishly. "I saw the shiny and needed it. It was treasure."  
  
"You needed it?" Ty asked.  
  
Hamish nodded.  
  
"What if you'd fallen in the water? Didn't we talk about that?"  
  
"Yes, daddy. I didn't fall in. I can swim," he said proudly.  
  
"I know you can, little guy. But I told you not to go near the water, not to open that gate. What if Izzy had followed you? She can't swim, can she?"  
  
Hamish's face fell. "But it's for you, daddy. You's treasure." His lip trembled as his eyes filled with tears. "I needed it for you. I loves you, daddy."  
  
Ty sighed. He felt like he was destined to make his whole family cry today. He looked up at Dill and Moira, who stood watching him with bemused smiles on their faces, waiting to see what he was going to do.  
  
Holding on to Cameron with one arm, he reached out to pull Hamish in for a hug. "I loves you too, Hamish. But that's why don't want you to fall in the river. I love you too much."  
  
"Bu... bu... but... the shiny, daddy. The trea... treasure," Hamish stuttered through his tears.  
  
"You should have asked mommy to get it. Or Gamma."  
  
"Hamish is a bad boy," Cameron grinned.  
  
Ty looked at him. "And who did the biting? I think all the boys in this family have been bad boys today." He glanced at Dill, who smiled at him and shook her head.  
  
"Me and Hamish, daddy?" Cameron asked him.  
  
"And me too," he told the little boy.  
  
Hamish stopped crying. "Daddy, you been bad?"  
  
Ty nodded. "Oh, I've been very bad. I made mommy cry."  
  
"Mummy's got an ouchie," Cameron told him, pointing. "See?"  
  
"I know," Ty whispered, his eyes filling with tears.  
  
"Okay, my darlings," Moira said, stepping forward. "Who wants to come to the shop with me to buy some yummy ice cream?"  
  
Both boys turned to her, yelling, "Me, Gamma! Me!"  
  
"Come on then chaps, let's go wash those hands and faces first. Shall we take Izzy too?"  
  
Hamish nodded. "Izzy loves ice cream, Gamma." He turned back to Ty. "Here, daddy. The shiny treasure. For you." Giving his father the ring, Hamish reached up to kiss him, his blue eyes shining brightly. "I loves you, daddy," he said, before running out of the door following Moira, who'd taken Isobel from Dill.  
  
Cameron, not to be outdone, wrapped his arms around Ty's neck and kissed him lavishly, leaving a trail of saliva on his cheek. "I loves you too, daddy," he whispered before he slipped off his father's lap and followed his brother.  
  
Dill stood and watched as Ty wiped his face. "You did good kid," she laughed. "Now how about a kiss from me?"  
  
"Promise you won't drool on me?" he smiled, as he slipped his ring back onto his finger.  
  
"I drool over you, Ty, not on you," she smiled, as she sat herself on his lap, straddling his thighs. "How can I not? You're so damn delicious."  
  
"Dill," Ty whispered, as she began kissing his neck and nibbling his ear.  
  
"What, my lover?" she sighed into his ear, her breath hot and moist.  
  
"Not now, the boys might come in." he groaned as she wriggled, grinding her hips onto his lap.  
  
"Why do you think mother took them for ice cream?" she giggled, pushing down on his groin and feeling his reaction.  
  
"Dill, you are so bad," Ty told her as she began undoing the buttons of his shirt. She bent her head to lick and kiss her way from his throat to his chest, nipping gently at each nipple, before sucking on them bringing, them to hardness.  
  
"Be quiet, flyboy," Dill whispered. "In fact, I've got no room here. Stand up." She slipped off his lap, grinning at the way his jeans were bulging.  
  
Ty stood up carefully, watching as she cleared the table. "Hop up," she winked.  
  
"On the table? No way!" he told her, horrified. "We eat at that table."  
  
"Oh, go on. Be a devil. Be bad boy, McQueen!" she chuckled. "You know you want to." Dill dropped to her knees, her fingers reaching to undo his jeans and slip inside, freeing his hard cock from his underwear. "Oh, nice," she whispered, flicking the tip with her tongue, causing him to tremble as she took his length into her mouth.  
  
Ty leant back against the table, his hands gripping the edge, as Dill began to move her mouth up and down his cock. Her teeth very gently scraped the sensitive skin, her tongue licking up and down as he thrust himself gently into her face. He groaned as her lips clamped shut and she began to suck hard, pulling him into her mouth until he reached to stop her.  
  
"It's too intense. I'm coming," he moaned. "I don't want to come in your mouth."  
  
"Then hop up onto the table," she grinned, pushing him backwards until his feet left the floor.  
  
Ty scooted backwards until he was more comfortable, and watched as she stripped him of his jeans and boxers, before removing her shorts and panties.  
  
"God, Dill," he groaned, as his cock twitched. "How do you do it to me every time?"  
  
"Shush. Just lay still while I get comfy," she told him as she climbed on top of him, and positioned herself to slide down his rigid cock. "Ready?"  
  
"Oh yeah," he moaned. "Just do it, Dill. For gods sake, before I explode."  
  
"Yes sir," Dill giggled slowly, sliding down onto him, watching his face as she did so. "God, you're lovely when you get that look," she told him, leaning forward to thrust her tongue in his mouth, then slipping it out to kiss him thoroughly and nibble on his lower lip.  
  
"What look?" he mumbled as she sucked on his lip.  
  
"You go all googly eyed," she chuckled. "And your mouth pops open just a tiny bit, and you sigh."  
  
"Sounds repulsive,"he laughed, his laugh turning into a moan as she began to slide up and down him. "Oh god, that feels so good. Faster."  
  
"As you wish," she smiled, picking up the pace and sitting upright astride him, her knees underneath her giving her leverage.  
  
Ty reached up to hold her breasts as she rode him frantically. Massaging and squeezing them until her nipples were hard in his hands, he tried pulling her down so that he could suckle, but she fought him off, laughing.  
  
"Oh no, you don't. The angle goes all wrong if you pull me down. It's much better for both of us this way. Just lay back and enjoy it."  
  
Ty grabbed Dill's hips instead, supporting her and lifting her as she slid up him until she began to pant, her body trembling as her orgasm approached. Unable to stop himself, he rolled them over, and using his good leg to steady himself, thrust hard inside her as she wrapped her legs around his waist. It didn't take long before she was clinging to him, her whole body going rigid, her muscles clenching around his still pumping cock, and burying her head in his shoulder as she cried out with the intensity of her orgasm. The feel of her body trembling and her muscles contracting around his cock drew him over the edge, and he collapsed with a soft cry onto her, his head sinking onto her shoulder where her hand began to stroke the sweat dampened curls.  
  
"Why can't I last?" he whispered. "Lately I can hardly hold on."  
  
"It doesn't matter," she told him. "You'll be ready to go again in a minute, if you want to."  
  
"I can't" he admitted. "My knee is killing me."  
  
"Your knee? Why didn't you say so?" Dill pushed Ty off her and jumped down from the table. "Let's get you dressed and get the weight off that leg. For god's sake, Ty, you ran around on it all night too!"  
  
"It'll be okay," he grinned as she pulled his boxers up his thighs, her fingers brushing his cock in her haste. "If you do that again, I'll have to throw you on the floor and ravage you," he chuckled.  
  
"Don't you dare!" she told him. "You're going to sit in the garden and rest that leg. I'll bring you something to do, and I'll sit with you, but you are going to keep your weight off it. Understand?"  
  
"Yes, mommy," he teased as she did his jeans up. "But you know, with you tempting me like that, I might not be able to help it." His hand slid between her thighs, reminding her that she still wore nothing on her lower half.  
  
"Get off!" she giggled, picking her clothes up and pulling her panties on. "You are a bad boy, McQueen! Now get your sexy self onto that recliner in the garden. And use your crutches!"  
  
"Yes, mommy" he repeated, grinning and grabbing the crutches.  
  
Laughing, Dill finished getting dressed and pottered about, collecting Ty a few things to keep him occupied, before going out to where he sat.  
  
"Here you go," she said, dragging a table over to him. "I bought you these when you were in the hospital, in case they kept you in for a while. I know it helps you to relax." Dill set down in front of him a set of calligraphy brushes, inks and a range of papers. "I wasn't sure about the paper, so I got a selection. Are they okay? I don't know a thing about calligraphy, but I know you do."  
  
Ty looked up at her, his love for her reflected in his eyes. "Do you have any idea how much I love you?" he whispered.  
  
"Yes, I do," she nodded. "And the boys bought you a new bonsai and some clippers. They thought tiny trees were terribly exciting. They can't wait to watch you clip it."  
  
"Come here," Ty whispered, grabbing her as she bent down. "I love you, Dill McQueen." He kissed her, and with a sigh of contentment as she went to collect a book for herself, settled down to examine his new brushes.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~ 


	5. 5

Promo Chapter 5.  
  
Dill sighed. They'd been sitting in the parked car now for a full half hour, staring at the apartment complex where the counsellor lived. "Ty, you're going to be late. Now you agreed to this - you know you did. I've listened to all the excuses you've tried since we got in this car, and I still haven't heard a reason why you can't go in. I told you already I'll help you up those stairs, and if you wait at the top afterwards, I'll help you down again. It's an hour, that's all. It won't kill you, and it might actually help you. Now stop acting as though you're the boys' age and get out of the car right now!"  
  
With a huge over-exaggerated sigh, Ty reached for the car door. "Alright, I'm going. But I don't want to."  
  
"Stop sulking and move your sexy behind. If you need reminding why you're here, take a look at my throat," Dill told him, sighing as she saw him flinch at her words. She reached out a hand to stroke his back. "I'm sorry, Ty. I know that was mean, but you really are acting your shoe size, and not your age. Now come here and give me a kiss before you go."  
  
McQueen leaned across and kissed her seductively. "If I'm a good boy, do I get a treat afterwards?"  
  
"Only if you get out of the car and let me help you up the stairs before Izzy wakes up," she said, with a glance at the baby asleep in her car seat.  
  
"Okay," Ty grinned, as she opened her door and got out, coming around to help him out and pass him his crutches. "Is it safe to leave her in the car like that?"  
  
"The stairs are right here. I can see the car the whole time, and I'll lock the doors. I'll only be a minute. It won't take long to get you up those stairs safely. Come on." Dill turned and locked the car doors with a smile. "Happy now, daddy?" she teased.  
  
"Yes, thank you, mommy. After the scare she gave us before she arrived, I don't want to lose her now," Ty grinned.  
  
With a chuckle, Dill helped him up the stairs and watched as he headed for the door, determined to let him see that she was watching to make sure he actually went in. After the door closed behind him, she ran back down the stairs to the car. She smiled to see that Isobel was still sleeping soundly. Getting in, Dill drove away, determined to drop Isobel off with her mother, who'd taken the boys out for lunch, before she came back to collect her husband.  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Dill was waiting for him when McQueen came out. Her heart leapt to see that he was smiling as he said goodbye to the woman in the doorway. She prayed it was a good sign, and that he'd not complain about his next appointment. For a second she wondered if that was why he was smiling - that he hadn't made another appointment. Getting out of the car to help him with the stairs, she saw that the woman in the doorway was at least her mother's age, with shoulder length greying hair. Dill gave her a brief smile before taking his crutches and putting an arm around his waist, leaning up to kiss him. "All done? And you're still alive, too."  
  
"Alright, no need to gloat," he told Dill as they descended the stairs. "And yes, before you ask, I made another appointment for next week. Happy with that?"  
  
"Of course," she smiled. "My brave man."  
  
"Oh, stop it!" Ty growled. "We talked about you and the kids mostly. She said she just needed to get to know about my home life a bit before we tackle anything difficult."  
  
"She looked nice enough," Dill said as she helped him into the car. "Did you get on with her okay?"  
  
"She's okay. A bit nosey, but I guess that goes with the job. She's one of you lot, " he told her with a grin. "So when do I get my treat?"  
  
"Later," Dill giggled. "Let's get you home. I noticed you're limping again. I hope you haven't damaged that leg, Ty."  
  
"It does feel a bit sore still," he admitted.  
  
"Come on then - let's get you in the car and your weight off it. No monkey business tonight, mister!" she scolded him, taking his crutches as he settled himself into the car.  
  
"Not even if you're in charge?" he asked with a grin.  
  
"We'll see," she answered him. "Now do that belt up. I'm not moving this car till you do."  
  
"Yes, ma'am," Ty laughed, strapping his seat belt in.  
  
"See? You can do as you're told," Dill giggled as she drove away. "And what do you mean, 'she's one of you lot'?  
  
"She's British."  
  
"Ahhh. We're taking over your life!" she chuckled.  
  
"Don't I know it!"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The children bathed and fed, Dill was putting Isobel to bed whilst the boys sat in the kitchen with Ty, watching as he pruned the bonsai they had bought him.  
  
"Daddy?" Hamish asked. "Tree's very small?"  
  
"It's supposed to be. It's a special tree. A bonsai tree," Ty told him with a smile.  
  
"Trees are big, daddy," Hamish told him, in a voice that implied since he was a grown up, he should know this.  
  
"Yes, daddy. Trees are big. Is it a baby tree?" Cameron asked.  
  
"Not really,"Ty smiled, trying to think how to explain bonsai to a two and a half year old.  
  
"Snipping makes it pretty," Hamish told him. "I snip it, daddy?"  
  
"On my lap then, little guy. I'll show you where, and you can snip it," Ty told the little boy.  
  
Beaming, Hamish climbed up onto his father's lap. "Where snip it?" his son asked, picking up the small clippers.  
  
"Just here." Ty pointed to a tiny branchlet.  
  
Hamish very carefully snipped the branch, his tongue poking out as he concentrated, and his smile widening as the tiny branch fluttered to the table. "I done it!" he cried.  
  
"Did it. You did it, Hamish," Moira corrected him, coming into the kitchen. "Mummy's nearly ready for you boys. Give daddy a kiss goodnight, and Gamma a hug, and off you go."  
  
Hamish wriggled around on McQueen's lap, wrapping his arms around his father's neck as he kissed him. "Night-night, daddy," the boy said before slipping off his lap, and going to hug Moira.  
  
Cameron climbed onto McQueen's lap and kissed him. "See you later, alligator!" he giggled, before climbing down and running out of the door.  
  
"Don't let the bed bugs bite!" Ty called after them, smiling as he heard Hamish's reply, "If they do, use dynamite!"  
  
"Where did you pick that one up?" Moira laughed. "Doesn't sound like the kind of thing they teach you in the Marines."  
  
"Hawkes," Ty laughed. "Though who knows where he got it from. We were camped out once on some godforsaken planet and he piped up with it while we were settling down to sleep."  
  
Moira began rummaging in the fridge, trying to decide what to cook them for dinner. "These raspberries - do you have any idea what Dylan plans to do with them?" She looked up at McQueen's sudden intake of breath. "Are you okay?"  
  
Despite his obvious blush, he tried to look as if he had no idea what she meant. "I'm fine."  
  
Moira raised an eyebrow. "I think perhaps I don't want to know," she laughed. "Just don't bang the headboard against the wall. It wakes me up."  
  
Ty blushed redder, not quite knowing what to say, and bent his head to concentrate on his bonsai.  
  
Moira was still chuckling when Dill arrived ten minutes later. "I don't know what you did with those boys today, mother, but they both went out like lights." She looked from Ty's utter absorption in his bonsai to her mothers grin. "What's up? Did I miss something?"  
  
"Other than me embarrassing your husband, not a lot," Moira chuckled.  
  
"He embarrasses so easily too," Dill smiled, coming up behind him and giving his navel a soft kiss.  
  
Reaching to pull her head down, Ty whispered in Dill's ear, "You have raspberries."  
  
"Cream too," she whispered back, laughing as he blushed again.  
  
"Oh, for goodness sake," Moira laughed. "Leave the poor boy alone."  
  
"He's alright, aren't you?" Dill asked him, as she sat down on the chair next to him. "What's for dinner, mother? I'm starved!"  
  
"Well, it looks like some grocery shopping needs to be done, so tonight we have salad. It's all there is. And there's a bit of cheese lurking, so it's cheese salad," Moira told her.  
  
"Cheese salad? Let's phone for a take out, and I'll do the shopping tomorrow," Dill sighed. "If I'd known we needed food, I could have got it today while his lordship here was in his session."  
  
"Are we allowed to ask how it went?" Moira asked McQueen, sitting at the table with them.  
  
He looked up from his tree. "Sorry?"  
  
Both women laughed at the expression on his face.  
  
"Did I miss something?" he asked.  
  
"Mother asked if we're allowed to ask how your session with the counsellor went today," Dill told him, reaching out to gently rub his arm. "But you were so engrossed in that teeny, tiny tree of yours that you didn't notice."  
  
"Oh, sorry," he smiled. "It's a lovely tree, Dill. For someone who knows nothing about it, you picked a really good one."  
  
"I asked the sales assistant - that's what they're there for," Dill grinned. "But you're avoiding the question." She turned to Moira. "So I guess that tells us what we want to know, mother."  
  
With a sigh, Ty put his snips down. "I know you'll keep on until I tell you, so I'll tell you now. We talked about me and you and the children. She wanted to know what my life is like now. She said we'll discuss why I came to see her next week. She told me that she needs to see how good or bad our relationship is. Whether I'm in a place of," he raised an eyebrow at Dill, "'Happiness'. She seemed a bit flaky to me. Her place is full of herbal things and crystals and auras or some such. You're entrusting my mental health to someone I think needs help."  
  
"Don't be so judgemental," Moira told him. "Did you arrange another appointment?"  
  
"Yes, I did," he told her. "Same time next week. But I'm damned sure she's not going to be able to help me. I'm telling you now, if she starts waving crystals around me or telling me my aura needs cleansing, I'm outta there!"  
  
"If she does that, tell her you don't like it. That it makes you uncomfortable. After all, we're paying her to help you, and if that's not going to work, then she needs to be more conventional," Dill told him matter of factly.  
  
"She's highly respected, TC. That's why I chose her. No one told me that she was flaky. All they said was that she is excellent at what she does, and that she's the woman to help."  
  
"Well, I'm prepared to give it another session, but..." Ty shook his head.  
  
"Six sessions, Ty. Give it six," Dill told him. "By then we'll all know if she's helping or not."  
  
"Okay, but if she tells me to strip naked and cavort in the moonlight ...," Ty glared at Dill.  
  
"Been there, done that." Dill muttered, regretting the words as soon as she'd said them, seeing the hurt look that flew across his face.  
  
"That was uncalled for Dylan!" her mother exclaimed.  
  
"It was true though," he sighed. "And that's why I'm going to this mad woman. To make sure it doesn't happen again."  
  
Dill got up and stood behind Ty, wrapping her arms around him. "I'm sorry. Mother's right, that was uncalled for. That was rubbing your nose in it, and you really don't need that. Sorry." She nuzzled into his neck, kissing it gently. "Am I forgiven?"  
  
"Of course," he smiled, goose bumps rising on his skin as she blew softly on his navel. He whispered to her as Moira stood and headed for the phone, "Especially if I'm getting trifle for dessert."  
  
"Ah,"Dill said vaguely. "Might be a problem there."  
  
"What? What problem?" he almost yelled, making her jump back in fright.  
  
"Jeez, Ty, don't yell like that! I nearly had a heart failure," she squawked.  
  
"So what do you two fancy for dinner?" Moira asked. "Chinese? Mexican? Pizza? What?"  
  
"Pizza, please,"Dill told her.  
  
"Pizza's boring," Ty complained. "Mexican."  
  
"Too spicy for me today," Dill told him.  
  
"Children! Make your minds up, please. How about Chinese? We know we all like it, and TC makes sure all the boxes are cleared so there's no waste," Moira laughed.  
  
"That's my husband," Dill giggled, "the human vacuum!"  
  
"Can I help it if I love Chinese food?" Ty pouted. "It's my marine training; eat it because you never know when you'll eat again."  
  
"No, it's called being a greedy gut!" Dill chuckled. "And if you're not careful, you'll get a fat belly. Especially as you can't do your runs for a few months." She leaned over and rubbed his stomach. "Not that I'd complain. You're far too skinny for my liking. You've lost weight recently, I'm sure of it."  
  
Moira sighed. "So we're agreed, are we? Chinese it is?"  
  
They looked at each other and nodded. Moira turned back to the phone.  
  
Dill kissed Ty's neck, gently dipping her tongue into his neck navel, making him squirm. He pulled her onto his lap.  
  
"So what's the problem with the trifle?" he asked.  
  
"Cameron is asleep in our bed. I think he was feeling left out because you let Hamish trim your tree and he asked if he could sleep with daddy tonight." Dill gave him a small sad smile. "I said yes. He's been so anxious about this whole leg thing, Ty, and Hamish seems to have been demanding your attention a lot just lately. He really needs you at the moment, I think. How could I say no?"  
  
Having finished her phone call, Moira sat down. "Cameron asked me if you were going away again soon because he'd been so bad. He actually said that if he promised to be a good McQueen, would you stay with him forever."  
  
"He really said that?" Ty went pale. "What am I supposed to do? I have to leave him. I hate doing it. I hate leaving you, Dill - you and the children. I hate it, but I have to."  
  
"I know, Ty, and Cameron is going to have to learn that you're not going because of him. It's not easy, but he has us here with him. The more we talk about it, take it for granted that daddy has to leave, then he'll eventually deal with it. I think, though, that Cashus is going to be around for a few years yet." Dill held Ty close as he leaned his head on her shoulder.  
  
"Nobody told me having kids was going to be like this," McQueen sighed. "It's bad enough with the 58th, but this business with Cameron just tears my heart out."  
  
"I know it does," Dill whispered to him. "I see it every time you leave him in tears. You're almost in tears too. It's okay to feel like that, Ty. Honest it is."  
  
"What damage must I being doing to our children, Dill?" he asked her, his face a picture of misery.  
  
"Stop that right now!" Moira interjected. "You're not damaging these children, TC. Hamish copes well enough. This is entirely a Cameron thing, and he'll get used to it. He's just a very insecure, anxious little boy who takes after his father way too much."  
  
"But he's insecure because of me," Ty sighed, holding on to Dill as she tried to stand up. "If I didn't keep going away, he'd be less anxious all the time."  
  
"We all know there's only one way you'd stay at home, Ty," Dill told him. "That's for you to be invalided out of the corp. None of us wants that, do we? So we have to accept the fact that our baby is going to react the way he does, and help him through it."  
  
"It hurts knowing that I'm not here for him when he needs me. I'll not be here to hold him when someone calls him a tank brat for the first time, or tells him his mother is a tank's whore. I want to be there for him, but I can't, and it hurts," Ty said softly.  
  
"You can't be here, TC, because you're up there keeping your family safe. That's what you do best... what they need you to be doing," Moira told him.  
  
"Ty, he's growing up in a community that will never say that to him. And if anyone does, he still has me. I'm perfectly capable of explaining to him that some people are mean old nasty bigots, and we McQueens ignore them. He's surrounded by people who love him, and when you're here, you show him that you love him too. You spend time playing with them, Ty. Do you know how many fathers never play with their children? I know you don't see much of them, but believe me, when they see that postman arriving they rush out to meet him. They know he'll have a parcel for each of them. And goodness only knows how many toys and books you've had delivered to the house - that damn train set drove me barmy!" she smiled. "They know who their daddy is, and that he's thinking of them. All those presents show them that."  
  
"I enjoy getting the things together for those parcels," he smiled. "I spend ages surfing the space net looking for new things for them."  
  
"You don't need to, Ty. They'd be happy with some pictures of you, a bar of chocolate and an optical disc," Dill told him with a kiss.  
  
"And would you still be happy if I didn't send you things too?" Ty smiled.  
  
"Yes, Ty, I would. It's lovely to find a huge bouquet of flowers waiting for me when I get home, or some yummy chocolates, but they're not why I love you. I can live without them. I couldn't live without you," she told him, hugging him tightly.  
  
As the doorbell rang, Moira rose. "I'll get that,"she grinned. "It's getting a little too cheesy in here for me."  
  
Dill laughed. "I want you to really spend time with Izzy too, Ty. It's easy to forget about her because the boys are so demanding, and she just sits and chuckles to herself all day."  
  
"I sometimes wonder if she knows something we don't?" he smiled. "It's like she can see something the rest of us can't."  
  
"She's probably thinking to herself, 'well, I'll get him when I'm older. I'll terrify him with a series of totally unsuitable boyfriends'," Dill laughed.  
  
"Dating? Who says my baby girl's going to date?" Ty chuckled.  
  
Moira came into the room, her arms laden with a large box filled with assorted smaller boxes of Chinese food. "I think I over ordered!" she laughed. "TC, your daughter is crying. Why don't you see to her whilst Dylan and I see to the food?"  
  
"Definitely," he smiled, pushing Dill off his lap. "I'll be a while though. I have to go up and down the stars on my butt. It was a good idea though, Moira, to get another set of crutches to leave at the top of the stairs."  
  
"See? I'm not just a pretty face," she laughed. "Go on, before she gets hysterical."  
  
Once he'd gone, and they'd heard him shuffling up the stairs, Moira turned to Dill. "You asked me yesterday if you'd got lucky with your tank. I think you did, Dylan, but I don't think it has anything to do with him being a tank. He's just an all round nice guy, who loves you very much and everyone can see that. And he adores his children. It's just such a shame that he has this enormous sense of duty that keeps him in the marines."  
  
"No, mother," Dill said, unpacking the box. "It's not a shame at all. It's what makes him who he is, the man I fell in love with. He is the corps personified. The times I've spent on the Saratoga made me see a different man. The soldier that he is... no, warrior I'd say describes him better." She paused in her unpacking. "You know, mother, he's a brilliant strategist. He regularly gets consulted on plans and exciting top secret military stuff. I'm just so damn proud of him, and still in awe that he fell in love with me. He has so many facets to him, and he knows exactly what he's talking about in almost any given situation. You were surprised to see his calligraphy work, weren't you? And his knowledge of bonsai? Well, he loves classical music too, and will argue you into the ground over whether Mozart is better than Bach. But he hates opera - says 'it's over dramatic'. And don't get him started on Wagner!"  
  
"My god, Dylan, what does he make of that raucous noise you listen to?" Moira laughed.  
  
"His only comment was that Cooper and I should get together and swap discs, as we have similar tastes. But please not to do it when he was around, as his ears would probably bleed!" Dill laughed. "Oh, and 'for gods sake, Dill, stop singing that crap out loud', I remember him saying as well!"  
  
Moira chuckled as they finished unpacking the box, putting the food into the oven to keep warm until McQueen got back.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
When they eventually made their way to bed, Ty stopped in the doorway, looking at his young son snuggled in the large bed, clinging to a pillow, with his doll firmly wedged under his arm.  
  
"Does he ever go anywhere without that doll?" he whispered to Dill, who stood behind him, her hand gently rubbing his butt.  
  
"No," she whispered back. "Now are we going to stand here all night, or are we going to bed? There's a small boy there waiting for a cuddle with his daddy."  
  
"There's a daddy here who was hoping for a big cuddle, with lots of whipped cream and some raspberries," he chuckled.  
  
"Well, if he plays his cards right, that daddy might get a trifle tomorrow night. Now shift your arse, McQueen - I'm tired and I need my bed," Dill grouched.  
  
Ty laughed, but headed towards the bed. "Will you at least help me get my pants off before you pass out from exhaustion?"  
  
"How could I resist such an offer," she giggled, dropping to her knees and unzipping his fly slowly, a wicked grin on her face.  
  
"No, Dill - don't you dare! Not with Cameron right here beside us," he told her. "Seeing you doing that probably would traumatise him."  
  
"Can you imagine? The poor girl at the ice cream parlour would probably hear all about it. 'Mummy was eating daddy's penis'," she giggled.  
  
"See? Exactly why if you do that again, Dylan McQueen, I'm going to get real pissed at you," he told her as her hand slipped inside to gently pump him.  
  
"You are such a spoil sport sometimes, Ty. You really are," Dill sighed, removing her hand and helping him to shed the rest of his clothing before he slipped into bed and gathered Cameron into his arms.  
  
"Well, I'm sorry if I don't think it's appropriate to be in bed with my two- year-old son and an enormous erection," Ty snapped.  
  
"I know," she smiled. "But it was so tempting. How could I resist?" Dill undressed and climbed into bed beside him. "I'm sorry." She kissed him softly on the forehead. "Am I forgiven?"  
  
"Yes," he grumbled. "But don't do it again."  
  
"I won't, I promise," she whispered, giving him a small smile. "God, you're gorgeous when you get irate."  
  
Frowning, he shook his head. "You know, Dill, there are times when I wonder if I'll ever understand how that tiny brain of yours works. I mean, you only have the one brain cell, but you're still so difficult to work out!"  
  
"Watch it, flyboy!" Dill chuckled, before being taken over by a giant yawn.  
  
"You nearly sucked us both in then," Ty laughed, pulling Cameron closer to him as the small boy snuggled against his chest.  
  
"Go to sleep, McQueen," Dill yawned again. "Stop flapping those lovely lips and go to sleep."  
  
"Yes, ma'am," he chuckled. Smiling, he watched her fall asleep within minutes.  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
A few days later he came down to breakfast to find Dill and Moira packing a bag with snacks for the boys.  
  
"What's going on?" he asked sitting down at the table.  
  
"Do you listen to a word I say?" Dill smiled. "I told you yesterday - mother and I are taking the boys and going to look at some houses. We'll make a shortlist so that you don't have to hobble around too many places. Just the ones I really like."  
  
"Are you taking Izzy too?" he asked.  
  
"No, Ty, remember? She's staying here with you, and you're going to give her lunch and take real good care of her," Dill grinned, saying each word slowly as if she was speaking to someone who didn't understand.  
  
He grinned. "I can take a hint, but let me get this straight. You and Moira are taking the boys house hunting, and I get to stay home with Izzy?"  
  
"See? That marine training has sharpened that brain of yours no end!" Dill chortled, going over to him and kissing him. "Just remember to feed her, Ty, and yourself. I left you some lunch in the fridge. Just pop it in the oven for about an hour. Make sure it's not too hot for her. And give her some fruit juice and a piece of fruit at about ten thirty."  
  
"Now that I'm fully briefed, I don't expect I can go wrong, can I?" he smiled.  
  
Dill hugged him. "I never ask more of you than you can give, my lover. You know that. Izzy will be no problem at all, I promise." And so saying, she headed out the door.  
  
Ty watched as Moira called the boys in from the garden and herded them out and into the car. As always, his heart lightened at the sight of his two blonde-haired sons, with their wide cheery smiles and twinkling blue eyes. And now that they had acquired a tan from the Alabama summer, they looked even more lovely to him, dressed in short denim overalls and bright t- shirts, their little brown feet encased in sandals, as they flew through the house chattering to each other on their way to the car. He turned to look at his daughter, a chubby 8 months old, tanned like her brothers, her hair a mass of brown unruly curls. She sat in her chair, smiling up at him with the same blue-eyed twinkle the whole family had, and again he felt a tug at his heart strings.  
  
"Okay, dumpling, looks like it's just you and me. What shall we do?" he asked her.  
  
Her response was a loud chuckle.  
  
"Well then," he smiled, "let's just stay here while I get myself some breakfast. Have you eaten yet? Fancy some toast?"  
  
Ty pottered about, talking to her as he made himself something to eat. It was only as he sat down that he realised that the oven was on, and the croissants Dill had left him had now burned to a crisp.  
  
"Shit!" he cried, his fingers burning as he pulled the tray out of the oven. He turned to Isobel. "Don't you tell mommy I said that in front of you or she'll get mad at me, and I'm still waiting for my trifle."  
  
After depositing the burnt croissants in the bin, Ty sat back down. "Okay, dumpling, want some of daddy's toast? Jam? Marmalade? What's this black stuff?" He opened the small jar and sniffed. "Jesus Christ! And you and your brothers eat this?" He picked the jar up, examining it. "Marmite. Never heard of it. I'll bet mommy brought it from home with her. She makes you guys eat the weirdest stuff. But I noticed you don't eat that fishy soup thing she makes. Don't like the look of it, huh?"  
  
He spread jam onto a piece of toast and handed it to Isobel. "Here. Eat this."  
  
She reached out a chubby hand and took it from him, babbling as she did so.  
  
"What are you talking about?"he wondered, taking a bite of his own toast. "You babble away all the time, but no one knows what the hell you're talking about."  
  
Ty sat and watched her as he finished his toast, smiling to himself at the way she used the toast to wipe around the surface of her chair before ramming it whole into her mouth.  
  
"That is disgusting," he told his daughter. "But I guess it makes it taste better. You'll excuse me if I don't do it. I'm making myself some coffee. I guess you don't drink that, do you? So what do you want? Some OJ?"  
  
Isobel sat in her chair and watched him as he filled her beaker and placed it in front of her. "Don't drink it all at once,"he told Izzy, turning back to make his coffee, not really paying her a great deal of attention as he did so.  
  
When he turned around, he saw how she'd been amusing herself. She'd pulled the lid off the beaker, and orange juice had spilled everywhere. Isobel herself was soaked in it. It dripped down the sides of the chair and onto the floor, where it lay in an ever-expanding puddle.  
  
"Izzy!" Ty yelled, grabbing for the beaker. "Why the hell did you do that?" With a sigh, he grabbed a cloth from the sink and cleaned up the chair and the floor, before lifting her out of her highchair and putting her on the floor. "Don't wander off," he told her, as he wrung the cloth under the tap.  
  
Turning back around, Ty sighed. She had, of course, crawled away. He followed Izzy, picking her up as she got to the stairs. "You are not going up those." His nose twitched. "Oh, dumpling, you're stinky too!" Standing at the bottom of the stairs, he hesitated. How did Dill expect him to cope with both Izzy and his crutches? He hadn't used them since Dill had left, which he knew was wrong. But his leg felt fine. "Come on, my little dumpling; let's sort that stinky diaper out, shall we?" For a second, he was prepared to just carry her up the stairs. Then realising that to do that would endanger them both, he sat, and with her on his lap, bumped his way up the stairs instead.  
  
Finally reaching the top, Ty stood and carried Izzy into her room, setting her down on the changing table. As he reached for the things he would need - clean nappy and wipes, and a bag for the dirty ones - he saw her rolling towards the edge. "Whoa there!" he almost screeched in his panic. "Stay put, Izzy. Mommy would kill me if you fell off and hurt yourself."  
  
Holding her steady with one hand, McQueen again began to assemble what he needed, before starting to undress her. "Oh, you really stink," he told her, his nose wrinkling. "What the hell has mommy been feeding you? Oh god, Izzy, it's leaked out of the diaper!"  
  
Isobel's clothes were covered where the nappy had leaked. Ty carefully tried to take them off her without getting her, or himself covered in it. Eventually he managed, dropping them in a pile onto the floor with a sigh. Immediately after he took her nappy off, she lifted her legs and her hands went to her bottom, and smearing the contents of her nappy all over herself, before reaching out to him.  
  
"Izzy, don't do that!" he cried, as her hands grabbed his wrist, smearing poo all over his hand. "Ugh, Izzy! This is worse than chig spooge," he told her, trying to hold her hands away while he wiped her clean. "It's in all your bits, too,"he groaned. "How the hell do I get it out of there? Mommy says I mustn't poke about when I'm cleaning you up, but I don't see how I'm supposed to get you clean if I don't."  
  
Izzy smiled at him as he tried to clean her up, but each time he reached for another wipe, her hands would creep back down to her bottom. "This is no good, Izzy,"he told her. "I think you're going to have to go in the bath." With a sigh, knowing he was getting covered himself, he picked her up and took her into the bathroom, closing the door so that she couldn't escape while he ran her a bath.  
  
Once the bath was run and carefully tested, just as Dill had showed him, Ty turned to see that his daughter had obviously spent the time crawling around the whole room, judging by the spooge everywhere.  
  
"Hell, Izzy! Now I'm going to have to clean the bathroom too!" he cried, grabbing her before she pulled herself up on the toilet bowl. He deposited her in the bath. "Now don't drown while I clean this mess up," he told her, as she happily splashed about in the warm bubbly water.  
  
His back was turned to her as he scrubbed at the last dirty spot on the floor, so he didn't see her pull herself up on the side of the bath. All he heard was the bang as she slipped and hit her head. Ty turned quickly and grabbed for her as she slipped under the water. "Izzy!" he yelled, as he lifted her screaming from the bath. Clutching her to him, he rocked her gently, soothing her as Dill had done so many times to him, until she was at last calm in his arms. "Poor dumpling,"he cooed to her. "Did that bad bath hurt you? I'm sorry. I should have been watching you."  
  
Happy that at least she was clean, McQueen carried her into her bedroom to get her dressed again, sighing as she peed all down his front. "For god's sake, girl, you've covered me in spooge, and now you pee on me!" Wiping her over with a fresh baby wipe, he managed to get a nappy on her, before he took her with him so that he could change his clothes.  
  
"So ok... you stay on the bed there, while daddy changes his shirt and pants," he told her. "I mean it, Izzy."  
  
Ty stripped down to his boxers and rummaged for clean clothes, diving to catch her as Izzy rolled towards the edge of the bed. "I told you, didn't I?" he grinned at her. "Stay on the bed!"  
  
Isobel babbled at him, reaching to grab at his face. Ty laughed as she grabbed his lip and pulled him down to her level.  
  
"I love you, Izzy," he mumbled as she filled his mouth with her hand. She chuckled as he began to tickle her, and wriggled as, with her hand removed from his mouth, her father blew raspberries on her bare stomach. It wasn't long before he had her laughing loudly, as he continued tickling her and nibbling at her toes, before he shifted to lie on his back and bounce her on his stomach.  
  
"Ok, dumpling,"Ty finally grinned. "Daddy needs to get some clothes on now, and so do you." He climbed up from the bed, and this time watching her carefully, pulled on some sweatpants and a t-shirt, before picking her up and going to find her some clothes. He rummaged to find something he liked, frowning at the lack of pretty dresses. Izzy was a girl, and therefore she ought to have pretty little dresses, he figured. With a sigh, he settled on short denim overalls like the boys. He wanted to be able to kiss her chubby knees.  
  
Heading back downstairs, he glanced at the clock in the hallway. 10:40.  
  
"Time for some juice and fruit," he told her, as they bumped their way down the stairs. "And a coffee for daddy."  
  
Feeling how sticky her chair was, he grimaced. "Maybe we won't put you back in there," he told her, sitting her on the floor at his feet. "I'm sure I can manage with you crawling around on the floor here. Just don't go getting into any mischief, dumpling. You hear me?"  
  
Ty kept his eye on Izzy as he cut up a banana for her, mashing it slightly to make it easier for her to eat, as she had no teeth. He smiled as she crawled under the table and lay down, smiling at him, babbling softly to herself. "Hey you," he called. "Are you saying 'da' under there? Sounds like it. Come on then, dumpling. You can sit on my lap and eat this." He bent down and gently pulled her out.  
  
McQueen sat down at the table with her on his lap. "Now then, mommy will tell me off if I don't get you to eat this. So come on, Izzy, let's eat it all up, shall we?"  
  
Izzy wriggled around on his lap, squirming about as he tried to feed her the mashed banana. "Sit still please, Izzy. You're as wriggly as mommy is. Thank god it doesn't produce the same results," he chuckled. "Now, come on. Eat your fruit, you monkey girl, you!"  
  
Eventually Ty managed to persuade Izzy to eat the banana. And having drunk his coffee, he took her out to the sand box, his calligraphy things tucked firmly under his arm. "You play in the sand while daddy gets on with this," he told her. "Here you go - a digger and a spade. Have fun."  
  
Ty sat himself on the grass next to her and began to unpack his brushes and inks, preparing to work on a present for Dill. Without thinking, he got up and headed indoors to get the paper he'd forgotten.  
  
He wasn't gone more than a minute, but his face turned pale when he saw what Izzy had got up to in that time. She was sitting on the grass, a brush in her mouth, which was now a shade of green that did nothing for her, his inks slowly leeching into the grass beside her. Her hands were green and black, and her face had smudges of black ink on it.  
  
"Izzy - I just bathed you!" he wailed, picking her up. "Mommy will definitely kill me. Those inks don't wash out as easily as spooge! You're going to be my camouflage dumpling for a while now!"  
  
Again Ty bumped up the stairs with Izzy. Again he bathed her. Only this time, to his horror, he found she'd developed a huge bump on her head from the previous bath. By the time he'd finished dressing her again, she was nodding off in his arms, and it was with a huge sigh of relief that he gently laid her in her cot to sleep, turning on the baby monitor as he left the room.  
  
McQueen cleaned up in the bathroom, collected together all their dirty clothes, and headed downstairs to load them into the washer. He spent 20 minutes reading the instruction manual, trying to figure out how to get the machine working before he realised he hadn't shut the door properly. With a sigh, he slammed the door shut and left it to it's business. Heading into the kitchen to find what Dill had left them for lunch, and rummaging in the fridge, he found a pasta bake. Assuming this was lunch, he popped it into the oven to heat up, and headed into the garden to clean up the mess Izzy had made. By the time he'd dealt with that, sighing as he had to throw away what remained of the inks, he felt exhausted. The last thing he needed was to see that the washing in the machine had all turned a horrible shade of blue as it whirled round inside the machine. He collapsed onto a sofa in the living room and stretched out with a yawn.  
  
Ty woke to the shrill scream of the smoke alarm, and the hysteria of Isobel. Rushing into the kitchen, he removed the offending burnt lunch, opened the door to let the smoke out, and headed upstairs to comfort Izzy.  
  
She was standing in her cot, gripping the headboard tightly, tears rolling down her chubby cheeks until he walked through the door. Immediately her face lit up, and she smiled at him, letting go of the cot. Ty grabbed for her as she fell backwards, banging her head for the second time that day. Picking her up, he held her close, gently rubbing her head and kissing her bump. "My poor dumpling," he soothed. "Mommy will never leave me alone with you again. Though after today, I'm not sure that I want her to."  
  
He carried her over to the changing mat and checked her nappy. "Hell, Izzy, another spoogey one!" With yet another huge sigh, he cleaned her up, this time managing to keep them both clean whilst doing it, before taking her downstairs to find them some lunch.  
  
Sitting her in her freshly cleaned up highchair, Ty presented Izzy with lunch. A bowl containing some buttered bread cut into fingers and smeared with jam, some fingers of cheese, a few pieces of cucumber and some tomato. "I'm not sure if you can eat this, Izzy, but we'll try, okay?" he asked as he sat himself down, having made a sandwich for himself.  
  
They sat together in companionable silence eating their lunch, until Izzy finally finished sucking on her bread and decided that perhaps daddy needed it, and threw it at him. "Hey you, don't throw it around. I don't want your soggy, sucked up bread, thank you." he smiled. "Shall I see if mommy has a yoghurt or something for you?"  
  
He found her yoghurt and fed it to her before wiping her clean, or as clean as her green and black hands and face were going to get, before he picked her up and cuddled her. Carrying Izzy into the living room, he sat with her on the sofa. "So, madam, what are we going to do now?"  
  
Isobel's answer was a wide smile and a huge burp, which made him smile, before the burp was followed by a large amount of vomit, all down his front. Ty sat there holding her, unable to believe it. So far he'd been spooged, and peed, on and now vomited on. Why? he asked himself... why him? Why hadn't Dill taken Izzy with her? He was brought out of his reverie as he felt Izzy's hand stroking his face.  
  
"Okay, dumpling, I think I need to change the both of us again," he sighed.  
  
McQueen stripped her off and sat her on the floor, while he once again stripped down to his boxers. Then picking her up, they bumped their way back up the stairs and into Izzy's room for the third change of clothes that day.  
  
"So, Izzy my girl, what now?" he asked her as they bumped their way back down the stairs. "Shall we sit out in the garden? Would you like that?" Ty tickled her chin, making her gurgle at him. Pulling his hand away fast in case she threw up again, he carried her into the garden and sat her in the sand box, sitting on the grass next to her.  
  
"So what shall we do? Shall I make you a sand castle? Would you like that?" He busied himself with building an elaborate castle while Izzy crawled over to him and pulled herself up onto his lap. It wasn't until he realised she was trying to feed him a handful of sand that he looked at her, only to find that she had obviously been eating it herself. Her face and mouth were covered in it.  
  
"Don't eat the sand, Izzy!" he cried, using his sleeve to wipe at her. "Come on, let's just sit here on the grass. Shall I get you some toys or something to play with?" Ty picked Izzy up and moved away from the sandbox, closer to the flowerbeds.  
  
It wasn't long before she was in the flowers, grubbing at the dirt, smearing it around her face as she tasted that too. And then he was pulling her away as she tried to eat a bug she'd found crawling across the lawn. Ty hadn't noticed as she'd crawled around the grass, watching it scurry along, before finally reaching to pick it up and put it in her mouth. It was as he looked closer at what appeared to be a twig poking from her mouth that he'd realised it was in fact a beetle, and he had to fish it out before she swallowed it. The very idea that she'd almost eaten it made him gag.  
  
They spent the afternoon like that - Isobel tasting anything she could pick up, and McQueen clearing her mouth of whatever he could, until at last she began to yawn, setting him off too. He picked her up, grinning at her grubby hands and face, and carried her indoors. Bumping up the stairs with her, he cleaned her up, changed her nappy - to his horror yet another spooged one - and eventually fell asleep on the bed with her in his arms.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Dill found them when she arrived home an hour later with Moira and the boys. She crept into the room and took Isobel from his arms, her eyes widening in shock at the sight of Izzy's green and black stained face and hands. Her good mood evaporating when she felt not one, but two bumps on her daughter's head as she gently laid her in her cot. Angrily she shook McQueen awake.  
  
"Ty!" She shook him harder, jumping back as an arm flicked out to grab her. "What the bloody hell have you been doing to Izzy? She has bumps the size of eggs on her head. And what the hell is she covered in?"  
  
"Do you have any idea of the day I've had?" Ty groaned as he opened his eyes. "I've been spooged, peed on, and puked on. That child just releases from every orifice! And everything goes straight into her mouth! Bugs, Dill - she was eating bugs!" He sat up and rolled off the bed.  
  
"You were supposed to be looking after her! It looks like Hamish would have done a better job! What the hell were you doing letting her eat bugs? And was that you who put those clothes in the machine?" At his wary nod, she scowled. "You've ruined those clothes. Why didn't you just leave them in the dirty laundry basket? You can't wash your silk shirts with denims. And white shirts definitely don't get washed with jeans. And not on a boil wash either!"  
  
Ty stood there with a sheepish grin on his face while she blew off some steam, until she finally realised he didn't have his crutches. "Where are your crutches? You've not used them all day, have you? Have you?" Dill yelled at him. "For god's sake, you stupid arsed buggery bollockhead! It's not even been a week. You are supposed to be using the crutches! Well, if your leg falls off, don't you come running to me!" She turned and stomped off out of the room. "And why is my daughter green and black? What the hell have you been doing to her?" she yelled as she stomped back in, handing him his crutches. "Stop standing there like an idiot and explain yourself!"  
  
He took the crutches and opened his mouth to speak, but Dill cut him off. "Just don't say a word! You obviously can't be trusted to look after your own child! All I asked was that you looked after her for one day! One bloody day! And look at her, covered in god knows what, and with more lumps than the Elephant Man!"  
  
Moira appeared in the doorway. "When you've quite finished, Dylan, I think the boys would like to say hello to their daddy."  
  
"Be grateful someone loves you, because right at this moment, I'm not sure if I do!" Dylan told him as she left the room.  
  
"She's tired and hungry, and to make matters worse, we didn't see a single place she thought you'd like"Moira told him. "She loves you really. Let her calm down and she'll see reason and let you explain. Right now all she can see are the lumps on Izzy's head."  
  
"I know," he smiled. "But believe me when I tell you I've had the day from hell, too"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Dill was in a foul mood all evening. Even the boys noticed and were unusually subdued, not complaining once when she told them it was time for their bath and bed. Every time she looked at Isobel, she followed it with a scowl in McQueen's direction, refusing even to let him bath the children or put them to bed.  
  
He was waiting for her when she came back downstairs, Moira having raised her eyebrows and left him alone to deal with her.  
  
"Dill, talk to me, please," Ty asked her softly, reaching to pull her down onto the couch next to him.  
  
"What did you do to her, Ty?" she asked with a sigh, as she sat next to him. "How did she get the camouflage look? It wouldn't come off in the bath."  
  
"I know," he told Dill. "I tried, believe me. It's the inks for my calligraphy. She managed to tip them up, and tried eating the brushes. She tries to eat everything, Dill. I didn't know she'd be like that."  
  
"She's eight months old. What the hell did you think she'd be like?" Dill snapped.  
  
"I don't know. This is the first time since she was born that I've ever been alone with her. And I didn't see the boys at her age," Ty whispered softly.  
  
"I'm hungry," Dill moaned, as her stomach growled. "Is there anything for dinner?"  
  
"Your mother made chilli. Want some now?" he asked, getting up and reaching for his crutches. "I'll fetch you some."  
  
Dill sighed, watching him standing up, balancing with the crutches. "Sit down. I'll get it. You really need to rest that leg, Ty. You can't risk losing it." She pulled him back down onto the sofa.  
  
"I'm sorry, Dill, I really am... about today with Izzy. I had no idea what to expect. It was a real eye opener. I really don't know how you cope with three of them - one was enough for me!" he smiled.  
  
Her hand crept into his. "So tell me about it," she whispered, her anger at him dissipating, as she could see that he was desperate to make amends. He really hadn't had any idea of how to cope with Izzy.  
  
"Well, I burnt the croissants you left me, and made toast. Izzy smeared hers all over her chair before she ate it. And then she emptied her juice all over her, the chair and the floor, so I had to change her. She'd done an enormous poo and it'd leaked out of her diaper all in her clothes." Ty shivered. "It was awful. There was spooge everywhere. You said I mustn't poke about cleaning her up, but I'm telling you, it was everywhere. And she smeared it on me, too." He looked at Dill. Her shoulders were shaking, but her face was straight. "Are you laughing at me?" he asked her, relieved that she was relaxing.  
  
She shook her head, not daring to speak in case she let loose the laugh that was threatening.  
  
"I had to put her in the bath," he continued, "but not before she spooged the bathroom floor. That was when she got the first bump. She slipped in the bath while I was cleaning the floor. Then after that, she peed all over me, so I had to change too." Ty stopped for a moment. "Why doesn't she have dresses, Dill? I couldn't find any when I was getting her dressed."  
  
"She's crawling, Ty. Overalls protect her knees and keep her cleaner. Once she's walking upright, I'll start buying her dresses, and you can have that cute little girl you obviously want." Dill smiled, reaching up to stroke his face. "So where did she get the second bump?"  
  
"When the smoke alarm went off and woke her up. She fell in her cot just before I got to her."  
  
"The smoke alarm?"  
  
"I fell asleep on the couch while she was having her nap. The alarm woke me too. I'd burnt the lunch. I fed her, but I'll bet she was grateful for what you gave her tonight; she puked her lunch all over me."  
  
Dill gave up trying not to laugh. "Oh, Ty, I'm sorry. It never occurred to me you wouldn't be able to cope with her."  
  
"She just doesn't stop, does she? Everything goes into her mouth. While we were in the garden, I fished so much crap out of her mouth. And I'm sure I missed some of it." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.  
  
"I won't leave you alone with her again. I'll leave you Hamish next time, he knows how to deal with her," Dill giggled. "He'll train you up in the art of looking after crawling babies." She leant into him. "I'm sorry. I really am."  
  
"You don't sound it." Ty tried to sound upset, but her giggling was making him laugh.  
  
"I love you so much. You do know that, don't you?" she whispered eventually. "I'm sorry I flew off the handle earlier. Let me show you how sorry."  
  
Her hands reached up to pull his head down to where she could kiss him, her tongue gently flicking against his lips until he opened his mouth to her. With a moan, she began to thrust her tongue into his mouth. One hand gently stroked his navel, lightly running a finger around the raised edge. The other hand slipped downwards, massaging him through his sweatpants as he squirmed under her advances.  
  
"Oh god, Dill," Ty moaned softly when she released him from the kiss.  
  
"Tell me want you want," she whispered to him. "After all, I promised you a treat, didn't I?"  
  
"I want trifle, Dill," he whispered. "I want you, and whipped cream, and raspberries. I want you licking me, kissing me and fucking me with your pokey finger. I want you to make me come in your mouth. I want to be inside you, and I want to come inside you."  
  
"Then we'd better forget dinner and go to bed now," Dill said, grinning wickedly as she stood up and held out a hand to him.  
  
Ty looked up at her, his blue eyes darkened with desire. "Are you sure?"  
  
She knelt between his legs, her hands on his thighs, kneading them gently as she whispered in his ear, "Whipped cream, Ty. On your nipples... on your chest. Raspberries ripe and juicy, just right for sucking off your body." Her hands slipped down his thighs, massaging his hardness till she bent her head to him, tugging at the waistband of his pants until she'd freed his erection. Her tongue licked across the top of it, gently sucking, before she pulled his pants back up, and looked into his eyes. "I'm sure, Ty."  
  
Ty stood up. His breathing became harder as she continued to knead his crotch from her position at his feet. "Dill, please... not here. Your mother might come in."  
  
He moaned as she buried her head in his crotch, mouthing his erection through the tented fabric. His hands gripped her head as he tried to choose between letting her continue, or pulling her up and dragging her upstairs. The decision was taken out of his hands as her hands tugged his pants down his thighs and his exposed erection was swallowed quickly into her mouth. Before he could stop himself, he was pushing into her mouth, his hands holding her head as he thrust forwards, moaning softly as she sucked him hard, her teeth scraping the soft skin on the tip of his cock.  
  
Dill looked up at him as she withdrew her mouth along his length. "Shall I stop?"  
  
"No,"Ty groaned. "I need you, Dill. I need you now."  
  
"What if my mother comes in?"  
  
"Then she can watch," he groaned, thrusting himself against her mouth.  
  
Dill continued to lick him, swirling her tongue around the tip of his cock, her hands massaging his buttocks as he pressed into her mouth, forcing her to take his whole length. They were lost in the rhythm as his orgasm approached, Dill feeling his body tense just before he thrust wildly and came, filling her mouth as he slumped over her kneeling form.  
  
From the doorway a voice spoke. "Daddy, did you have a snake bite?"  
  
Ty's head snapped round even as his hands reached for his pants. Dill got up from her knees, wiping her mouth.  
  
"A snake bite, Cameron?" she asked.  
  
The boy came further into the room, nodding his head. "On the cartoons they suck snake bites to get the nasty out. Did you get a snake bite on your penis, daddy?"  
  
McQueen blushed red. "Err..."  
  
"No, Cameron. I was making daddy feel good. He was sad, but now he's happy," Dill told the little boy. "Let's get you into bed, shall we?"  
  
"But why, mummy? Why was daddy sad?" Cameron asked as she led him from the room.  
  
"Because Izzy hurt her head today. It made daddy sad."  
  
Cameron was quiet for a moment. "It makes me happy, too," he told her.  
  
"What makes you happy, Cameron?" Dill asked as they climbed the stairs.  
  
"Playing with my penis," he told her, before running into the bedroom and climbing into bed. "Mummy?"  
  
"Yes, Cameron?" she asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.  
  
"If daddy did have a snake bite, you could suck it, couldn't you?"  
  
"Yes, darling, I could," she smiled, stroking his forehead. "But he didn't, so don't worry."  
  
"Did you hurt daddy? His face was red, like Hamish's is when he cries."  
  
"No, darling, I told you. It's a daddy thing, only for mummy's and daddies. It makes daddy feel very happy, and then mummy can get him to change stinky nappies!"  
  
"Mummy! That's tricksy!" Cameron told her.  
  
"I know. Don't tell daddy though," Dill laughed, kissing him. "Come on, now off to sleep."  
  
"Okay mummy," he sighed, snuggling under the covers as she headed to the door. "Mummy?"  
  
"Yes, Cameron?" she asked, turning to look at him.  
  
"Are you going to make daddy happy again?"  
  
Dill smiled. "I hope so, my lover. Now off to sleep."  
  
"Night night, mummy," he called as she closed the door.  
  
"Sleep tight, Cameron."  
  
As she passed her bedroom door, Ty emerged and grabbed her arm. "Why didn't you let him think it was a snake bite?"  
  
"Why should we lie to him? I hardly think he'll be traumatised by the idea that mummy was making you happy." She kissed him. "I was making you happy, wasn't I?"  
  
"Oh yes, you were. Definitely," he chuckled. "Come in here and let's do it some more."  
  
Giggling, Dill allowed him to lead her to the bed.  
  
Minutes later Moira sighed, as once again the wall resounded to the regular thumps of their headboard hitting the wall.  
  
~~~~~~~~~ 


	6. 6

Promo. Chapter 6.  
  
Moira smiled, watching the grin on her daughter's face as she climbed out of the car and ran around to help her husband out. Looking up, Dill saw her mother watching, and waved.  
  
"Despite all the running around without crutches he did, the leg is healing up beautifully! In fact, Mr. Ashbourne said he could use just a walking stick! Isn't that great?" Dill chattered excitedly, delighted that at last she could stop hassling Ty about the crutches. "And he doesn't have to go back for another six weeks, so we can all go home!"  
  
Moira looked at McQueen as he smiled at Dill's excitement. "Your therapist is happy with this?"  
  
"She says we can have our sessions over the net. She has a secure line for business purposes," he told her as he walked towards the house. "Though how well that'll work, I don't know." Ty looked about him. "Where're the children?"  
  
"Asleep, all three of them. It's been blissful for the past hour," Moira laughed. "And you got another message from the 58th."  
  
McQueen grinned. "Another one?"  
  
Coming up behind him, Dill smiled. "They care about you, Ty. They were really worried you'd lose your leg for good, and they want to keep you updated on how Nathan's been doing."  
  
"But we get at least one mail a week from them!" he chuckled.  
  
"And you reply to each one, you old softy," Dill smiled, her hand wandering to give his bottom a squeeze.  
  
"Come on, I have lunch saved for you." Moira shook her head, chuckling as she turned and headed towards the garden. "I thought we could eat out here."  
  
Moira smiled to herself, watching as Dill fussed around Ty, making sure he was settled before fetching him a cold beer to have with his lunch. She sat as close to him as she could without crowding him, and touched him almost constantly. The counsellor that Ty was seeing had turned out to be someone he felt he could talk to, despite his initial reservations, and Dill had become jealous. Ty had been desperately trying to reassure his wife that she had nothing to worry about; just because he could talk to Hilary and not Dill, didn't mean he didn't love her. Consequently the past week or two had been rather strained - there had definitely been a distinct lack of the headboard banging against the wall. It seemed, however, that the prospect of going home to Scotland had brightened Dill's mood. Moira waited until the couple had finished lunch and were sitting relaxed enjoying the sunshine before she told them of the plans she'd made.  
  
"Dylan, I know you're looking forward to the idea of going home as soon as possible," she started.  
  
"Tomorrow. I want to go home tomorrow," Dill told her. "I can barely wait. Home," she sighed. "Home in my own house, with my husband and my children." She reached to squeeze Ty's arm. "I'm sorry I've been a cow over Hilary. I'll make it up to you, I promise."  
  
McQueen just smiled at her. "It's okay. It's kinda nice knowing you got so jealous."  
  
"For goodness sake, will you please just listen to me?" Moira cried in frustration.  
  
"Sorry, mother," Dill grinned. "What's up?"  
  
"I know the past few weeks have been a little... difficult, shall we say, for the two of you. So I booked you a break, without the children. Before you start, Dylan, you know full well they'll be fine without you and it's just a week," Moira said.  
  
"A break?" Ty asked, his eyebrows rising.  
  
"Yes. I saw it advertised when I was in town last week and I booked it on the spur of the moment. I hope you like it. It occurred to me afterwards that the crutches would have made it difficult for you, but now you just have the cane," Moira smiled. "A cruise around the Gulf of Mexico."  
  
"A cruise?" Dill asked warily. "What sort of a cruise?"  
  
"A small one, a crewed boat. And I think the agent said only about six couples at a time. It's a honeymoon type of thing." Moira was now grinning at the look on McQueen's face.  
  
"You booked us on a honeymoon cruise?" he asked, aghast.  
  
"Oh come on, TC - it won't be that bad!" she chuckled. "The way you two usually act, who's to know you've been married for over two years?"  
  
"I think he's worried that it might be a bit sappy, mother," Dill laughed. "It'll be fun, Ty. You, me, and nothing to do all day except sunbathe, swim and have ourselves a little fun."  
  
"You know, it sounds better already." Ty's eyes darkened with desire for her. Turning to Moira, he asked, "So when do we go?"  
  
"Tomorrow. I have to get you to the coast to pick up the boat by ten, so it's an early morning for all of us."  
  
"So it'll be like normal then," Dill chuckled. "I'd better go start packing!" She got up from her recliner, and with a quick kiss to McQueen, headed indoors.  
  
He watched her go indoors, admiring the way her whole body bounced with her obvious happiness. He almost missed Moira's next words.  
  
"It's been harder for her than you realise, TC."  
  
"What has?" he asked absently, his mind following Dill indoors and filling with images of what he'd like to be doing to her.  
  
"This past month. Oh, it started out well enough, with your promotion and everything, but the whole leg issue... Cameron turning into the child from hell," Moira sighed. "And then Hilary. Dill doesn't mean to be jealous, TC; she's tried so hard not to be. But the fact that you go off smiling to see another woman grates on her."  
  
"I know," Ty sighed, "and the really stupid thing is, she knows I'd never look at another woman. But she's been totally unresponsive this past week. It's worried the hell out of me; made me realise just how upset about it she really is."  
  
"I noticed,"Moira laughed. "I've actually managed to get some sleep at night!"  
  
Ty grinned at her. "Sorry, but she's just a damn sexy woman."  
  
"Well, you can keep everyone else awake on this boat for the next week," Moira laughed.  
  
"If it's a honeymoon cruise, maybe they'll have soundproofed the cabins," he snickered.  
  
"I hope for their sakes they have." Moira shook her head, chuckling.  
  
"Who would have guessed that one day we'd be laughing about how much noise Dill makes during sex?" Ty asked softly. "Remember the first time we met?"  
  
"Yes, I do," she said quietly. "I'm sorry, TC. I've said some hateful things to you in the past. I hope you can forgive me?"  
  
"Of course," he smiled. "After all, aren't mother-in-laws supposed to be like that?"  
  
"I guess they are," Moira smiled. "But anyway, who said it's Dylan that makes all the noise?"  
  
"I think that's my cue to leave," McQueen chuckled. "I wonder if Dill needs a hand packing?"  
  
Moira laughed as he got up and headed indoors, his desire for Dill evident not just on his face.  
  
"Don't wake the children!" she called after him.  
  
Ty found Dill lying on their bed.  
  
"I was hoping you'd come and help me pack," she said as he closed the door behind him and approached the bed. "I'm sorry. I've not been very nice to you just lately."  
  
He sat on the edge of the bed, gently stroking her bare feet. "You did seem to have had rather a lot of headaches this last week. And I know I'm ignorant about some things, but I know you didn't have your period." He looked at her sadly. "You wouldn't even let me hold you, Dill."  
  
"I know," Dill sighed. "I've been horrible to you, and you don't deserve it. I pushed you into seeing Hilary, and then couldn't cope with it when you found that she could help you. I was jealous that you could talk to her, a complete stranger, but not to me." She sat up and reached for him. "Let me show you how much I love you, Ty."  
  
Ty smiled as her hand slid up under his shirt, rubbing a nipple as she pulled him down onto the bed next to her. Dill straddled his hips and began to slowly unbutton his shirt, kissing each section of his abdomen and chest as it was revealed. Finally pushing the shirt down around his sides and off his shoulders, she began to lick and kiss her away across each nipple, bringing them to hardened nubs, before using soft gentle nibbles to work her way up his throat and along his collarbone and back again, nibbling, kissing and licking as she felt his skin heating underneath her.  
  
Using her tongue, she leant to trace the scars on his chest. Each one was thoroughly explored before receiving a gentle kiss and a lick as she moved on to the next. Each movement of her body exerted pressure on his groin, and he moaned softly as she shifted her weight down his thighs, kissing her way down his abdomen and into the fine trail of hair leading into his jeans. Her hands gently stroked his chest, fingers dancing lightly around his nipples keeping them hardened, until one slipped around his neck and softly stroked his navel, causing him to cry out. Lifting her head, she looked up at him. His eyes opened as she moved to slip a finger into his mouth. McQueen eagerly sucked on it, swirling his tongue around it as his eyes, now a deep passion-fuelled sapphire blue, stared straight into hers. Dill smiled and once again moved up his body to kiss him, kissing and licking at his throat and his neck, ignoring his navel even as he turned his head to offer it. She returned her attentions to his nipples. Her tongue washed over them, her teeth gently nipping them, before she began to suckle. She watched Ty, as with eyes closed, he began to writhe underneath her, trying to push his hips upwards, grinding himself against her hot centre, softly moaning as his desire overtook him. With a smile, she gently stroked his abdomen, letting her fingers slowly ease their way closer to the waistband of his jeans. Feeling the muscles there quivering as she touched him, she heard his soft groans as her fingers slid just under to play with the fine hairs trailing lower. He tried to move himself, to force her hand lower, and she finally unbuttoned and unzipped him, bending to trace the trail of hairs under the waist band of his boxers with her tongue, easing it under the band, teasing him with soft licks to his hardened cock. Ty's hands, all this time gripping the sheets, grabbed her head and pushed her into his crotch as he thrust upwards, desperate to feel the hot depths of her mouth engulfing him.  
  
"Please," Ty groaned, releasing Dill and pulling at his jeans, trying to rid himself of them, determined to free his ample erection from its constraints.  
  
With a soft sigh, she pulled his jeans off him. Sliding from the bed, Dill kissed Ty's knees and inner thighs as she worked her way back up his body. Her hands gently stroked his legs, softly tickling his thighs as she buried her face in his crotch, sucking him through the fabric of his boxers before slowly pulling them down to suck him into her mouth. Ty bucked off the bed, crying out, as she did, his hips thrusting upwards to bury himself fully in her throat. She waited for him to calm before she began to suck, slowly at first, but soon building to a hard, fast rhythm as his hips thrust upwards. Holding him down, she began to lick him, up his length and round and round the soft sensitive tip, dipping her tongue into the slit and making him squirm as she sucked furiously at just the very tip. McQueen came quickly, bucking his hips and thrusting wildly into her mouth, filling her throat as she tried vainly to swallow. Dill continued to suck as he slumped back into the bed, his breath ragged and shallow.  
  
"I'm sorry," he whispered.  
  
"What for?" she asked, still nuzzled into his crotch, rubbing her face against the soft curls of his pubic hair.  
  
"Coming so quickly." Ty reached a hand down to stroke Dill's hair.  
  
"Ty, we haven't made love in over a week. I didn't expect you to last long. But it's not about how long you last - I wanted you to enjoy it. Did you?" She smiled up at him. Feeling semen still in the corners of her mouth, she flicked her tongue out to lick at it. "You taste so good. No one ever tasted as good as you."  
  
"And you know this because...?" he chuckled, his hand still gently stroking her hair.  
  
Dill moved up the bed to lie next to him, snuggling close as he wrapped an arm around her. "You know full well, Tyrus McQueen, that you weren't my first lover. Just as I know I wasn't your first. But I never really enjoyed doing that until I met you. You taste good, like no one I ever tasted before."  
  
"I'm glad to hear it," he smiled. "More proof that we were meant to be together. No one ever complimented me on the taste of my come before. You're so funny, Dill. Even now you still surprise the hell out of me."  
  
"I do?" she asked, wriggling as his hand stroked her breast gently.  
  
"Every day," he nodded. "Now lie back and let me make love to you."  
  
"Fuck me," she whispered. "Don't be gentle, Ty. Fuck me hard and fast. Show me what it's like to be fucked by Colonel McQueen, the best damn Marine ever born."  
  
He looked at her, unsure whether she was teasing him or not. Seeing the look in her eye, he knew she wasn't. She needed him, and needed him badly.  
  
Rolling her onto her back, Ty kicked his boxers off and knelt to undo her shorts, pulling them and her panties down her thighs in one swift motion. Knowing what she wanted, he thrust inside her, feeling her wetness and knowing she was more than ready for him. Slipping his hands under her shoulders to hold her, he began to build to a fast and furious pace, slamming his body against hers as her legs wrapped around his waist. Feeling her legs gripping him, he stopped for a brief moment to reposition them, moving them to his shoulders, enabling him to thrust deeper into her. Soon he was pumping into her for all he was worth. A smile lit his face as he remembered Hawkes asking him if he ever held back while making love to Dill. Well, Hawkes - I'm certainly not holding back now, he thought. Ty dipped his head and thrust faster, as he felt her body begin to tense. He heard Dill's moans and pleas for him to be faster... harder. Just as he thought he would collapse from exhaustion, Ty felt Dill shudder underneath him, her hips bucking to meet his thrusts as her orgasm hit her. She stiffened and cried out, her body going rigid briefly before she slumped back, her body spent. Dill's muscles, clenching around his pumping cock, squeezed him, bringing him over the edge shortly afterwards, and he collapsed on top of her, gasping for breath feeling as though he'd never worked so hard in all his life.  
  
They lay like that, McQueen wrapped in her arms, until both had regained the strength to move.  
  
"Thank you," she whispered softly, kissing his jaw. "That was exactly what I needed."  
  
"Why?" he asked, confused. "I never know with you. Sometimes you like to take it long and slow, with lot's of foreplay. And then sometimes you just grab me the moment I get into bed and tell me to fuck you."  
  
"I don't know," Dill giggled. "Sometimes I lie there watching you getting undressed and I just think...my, I want that body... I need him right now."  
  
"I've missed you this past week, Dill." At her confused glance, Ty shook his head. "You've been so distant. I felt so lonely, even with you in the bed next to me. It felt awful. I don't want to ever feel like that again, knowing you didn't even want me holding you. I'm sorry that I can talk to Hilary about it, but not you." He sighed, squeezing her to him. "I asked her about it. She said it was because I was still scared that if you knew everything about me you'd be so disgusted that you'd leave me. Maybe she's right. I don't know, but I do know I never want to lose you, Dill. Seeing your face light up today when Ashbourne said I could use the cane instead, and we could go home, it made me realise how much you were hurting. I'm sorry Dill. I love you so much. I would never deliberately hurt you."  
  
"It was my fault," Dill whispered. "I let it get to me. I knew in my heart that it didn't matter, that you'd be more comfortable talking to her than to me. But I let the jealousy in, and then I took it out on you. I'm sorry."  
  
"We can lie here saying sorry to each other forever. Let's put it behind us. Tomorrow we're honeymooning again," Ty laughed.  
  
"What do you mean again?" Dill grinned. "As I recall our honeymoon was spent in your quarters on the Saratoga."  
  
"With two crying babies who took priority over me" he sighed. "That was a shock too... the way they took up all your time and attention. And you were too tired to love me. Even though I loved them so much, I was a bit jealous too. "  
  
"That's normal, Ty. I expect every new father has the same feelings when his child is born. He loves them, but resents that now he's not getting the hot sex so often any more," Dill laughed.  
  
"That's the one," Ty smiled, his smile turning to a yawn as he found he couldn't keep his eyes open.  
  
"Sleepyhead," Dill grinned. "Have a sleep. Go on - I'll stay with you. Mother can see to the boys and Izzy."  
  
She snuggled up close to her husband, pulling the sheet up over them, in case one of the boys should pay them a visit. Soon they were both asleep, snoring softly.  
  
When Moira, having knocked and got no response, poked her head around the door an hour later, the sight that greeted her both warmed her heart and made her smile. She hated to wake them; they looked so peaceful. Both of them were clad only in their shirts, from the clothing she could see strewn around the floor, and she was grateful that one of them had had the foresight to pull a sheet over them.  
  
Despite the fact that she had been furious with Dill for getting involved with, and then marrying, McQueen - a 'damn tank' as she'd so often called him - he had over the intervening years grown on her. Moira couldn't deny that he made Dill happy, and that he obviously loved her and their children very much. She felt strangely proud that he was finally, after what had shocked her to learn was a very long time, seeking the help he so desperately needed, to deal with and recover from the traumatic events of his early life and his experiences with the AI's.  
  
Looking at him laying on the bed, lying, in fact, almost on top of Dill, one hand firmly grasping her breast, his mouth inches from her nipple, as Dill lay, one arm and a leg wrapped firmly around him, Moira smiled sadly. It was obvious to those who really knew him that, however hard he denied it, beneath the hard-nosed, tough marine colonel exterior lay a scared and vulnerable young boy, desperately seeking reassurance that he was loved. She sighed. Sadly, it seemed, there were so few who did really know him... that he'd let in. It pleased her to know that it was her daughter who'd taken on the task of showing him that he really was worth loving. A challenge, she knew. But she also knew it was one that Dill was truly capable of.  
  
Moira stepped towards the bed, her foot kicking against a squeaky toy of Isobel's on the floor. McQueen sat up, instantly awake, his eyes wide with fear for a second, before he relaxed and turned to look at her.  
  
"Sorry," she smiled. "But you have a visitor."  
  
"A visitor?" he asked, looking around to see where his clothes were.  
  
"Dwyer, he says his name is. Something to do with your leg?"  
  
"Dwyer!" he practically yelled, almost leaping from the bed, but remembering at the last minute that he was naked from the waist down. "I'm sorry, Moira, but I need to get dressed and I'll be straight down to throw that scum-sucking pig out of the door! How the hell did he find me?"  
  
Moira's eyebrows raised. "I'll ask him to leave then, shall I?"  
  
McQueen almost growled at her. "I'll get rid of him. But don't let him near my children."  
  
"Too late - the boys came to investigate who the visitor was. They're talking to him downstairs."  
  
"He's Aerotech, Moira," was all Ty said as he tried to reach his underwear.  
  
"Hamish!" she squawked as she flew out of the door.  
  
As soon as she'd gone, McQueen dived out of bed and hurriedly dressed before following her. He glanced back at Dill, who still slept soundly, glad she was going to miss this.  
  
Ty reached the living room just behind Moira. Dwyer was sat watching as Hamish demonstrated his prowess at leaping from the furniture.  
  
"Hamish can jump from the climbing frame!" Cameron was proudly announcing. "He's a fast runner too. He can run fast as Sparky."  
  
"Who's Sparky?" Dwyer asked, his eyes following Hamish's every move.  
  
"Sparky is none of your goddamn business!" McQueen growled from the doorway. "Hamish, Cameron - Gamma needs you in the kitchen. She needs you now!"  
  
The two boys looked at him, recognising the dangerous tone of his voice. They looked to Moira, who nodded. "Come on chaps - shall we make some cakes?"  
  
With a beaming grin, Hamish asked, "Chocolate cakes, Gamma?"  
  
"Brownies?" Cameron asked.  
  
"Definitely brownies," Moira told them as they ran for the kitchen.  
  
Waiting until he was sure they'd gone, McQueen said coldly, "Get out of my house, Dwyer. You have no business here."  
  
"Interesting children you have, McQueen," Dwyer grinned. "I'd never have guessed they were twins if I hadn't known it already. The big one... Hamish, is it? I'd have thought he was about four at least. Strong looking boy."  
  
"He's of no interest to you or Aerotech. Now get out before I throw you out!" McQueen growled at him.  
  
"I came to deliver to you these papers," Dwyer told him as he stood up. "We at Aerotech feel you should know that we will be suing Ashbourne for the wilful destruction of Aerotech property, and you will be subpoenaed as a willing accomplice."  
  
"You were told that you should go through Ashbourne's lawyers. I suggest in future that you do that. Don't you ever come to my home again!"  
  
"Your home, McQueen? This isn't your home. Do tanks really have a home? Do you?"  
  
"Yes, he does," came Dill's voice from the doorway. "But you're quite right - this isn't his home. Should you ever show up there, you'll get a welcome that you won't forget in a hurry."  
  
Dwyer looked at her. "Are you making threats?"  
  
"Threats? No, Mr Dwyer, I'm making you a promise. Now get out before I let Ty throw you out bodily."  
  
Throwing the papers onto a small side table, he stalked to the door. "Don't think this is the last you'll be hearing from us."  
  
"It had better be," Dill told him firmly. "There's the door. Close it on your way out."  
  
As the door closed behind him, Dill turned to McQueen. "Oh, Ty! They're after Hamish. I know it! "  
  
"Calm down Dill," Ty whispered, taking her in his arms. "We don't know that, but I think that we should take the children home. Let's start packing up and leave as soon as we can."  
  
"No," Moira said from the kitchen door. "I'll take the children home, but you two are definitely taking that cruise tomorrow. "  
  
"How the hell can I do that, knowing that vulture is after my baby?" Dill cried.  
  
"We don't know any such thing," McQueen told her, giving her a squeeze. "Let your mother take them home. Aerotech won't get past the gatehouse. Almost everyone there has a reason to hate them - they wouldn't get any information from anyone there, and you know this."  
  
"What if they snatch him?" she whispered, her mind filling with terrible images.  
  
"Stop it, Dill. No one will get near your children, I promise you. We'll put a full lockdown on. I'll warn everyone that we may get unwelcome visitors who are a threat to the boys, and security will be as tight as a ..."Moira grinned, "I was going to say a nun's arse, but that's rather unladylike."  
  
McQueen laughed out loud, bringing the boys to the kitchen door.  
  
"Is mummy making you happy again, daddy?" Cameron asked.  
  
"Mommy always makes me happy," he smiled. "How're those brownies coming?"  
  
Cameron sighed. "Hamish was stirring them, but he stirs too fast and the flour gets in my eyes."  
  
"I'm sure they'll be delicious," McQueen told him. "Better let grandma put them in the oven."  
  
"Not yet daddy," Cameron told him, as though he were an idiot. "We need to stir them some more. Come on, Hamish," he said, tugging on Hamish's arm.  
  
Moira grinned at Dill and Ty. "Maybe Cameron will be a chef like grandpa." She followed the boys, and they heard her talking to Isobel, who was sat in her highchair, sucking a wooden spoon.  
  
"I don't care what happens - neither of my boys is joining the military," Dill whispered, looking up at McQueen.  
  
"That's fine by me. Now come on – let's get you a drink and we can start packing. Gor us and the children." Ty bent and kissed her gently. "Dill, you know I won't let anyone hurt Hamish. If he was snatched from us, the whole 58th would be out there looking for him, and not just because I ordered them to." He led her back into the living room and sat her down, holding her close and kissing her again.  
  
"I love you so much," she sighed as he broke the kiss. "It frightens me sometimes."  
  
"It frightens me too," Ty told her. "After my marriage to Amy failed, I swore I'd never open myself to that sort of risk again - the risk of being hurt. Then I met the 58th, and I told myself that the feelings I had for them were just because I was their CO. It worked fine until I met you. Then I had to confess to Glen that I loved those damn kids. I knew it was love I felt, because I felt it for you too. A different kind, but the same feeling."  
  
"Blimey!" she smiled. "Those therapy sessions are working, aren't they? Normally nothing like that would come out of your mouth unless we were snuggled up in bed."  
  
Ty shrugged. "So far we haven't really touched on anything bad. She seems to want me to talk about us. I guess she wants to see just how strong our marriage is." He looked at her, fear in his eyes. "Our marriage is strong, isn't it?"  
  
"Yes, my lover, it most assuredly is. Even when I'm acting like a jealous idiot and you're doing your 'stupid tank' impersonation. I told you when you asked, you can keep me forever and ever. The comments I get don't bother me anymore, and when you're home with us I hardly worry at all that you'll come back from Inverness safely," she told him, reaching to gently stroke his jaw line.  
  
"People say things to you?" he asked in a low voice, his hand reaching to hold hers against his face, nuzzling his cheek into her palm.  
  
"Sometimes. Usually in Inverness, because in Fort Augustus you're pretty well known. It's a small place and most people like you. They got used to seeing you out and about with the boys." Dill grinned impishly at him. "I think they consider you Fort Augustus's official tank!"  
  
"You worry about my safety?"  
  
"Of course I do," Dill sighed. "When you're up there," she pointed skyward, "and when you're home. At home I worry that some ignorant swine will take exception to you and decide that you're fair game for a fight. But I'm coping with it. I know you can handle yourself in a knife fight. And I know that up there you have a whole bunch of friends watching your six."  
  
"I'm sorry Dill," he whispered, letting go of her hand and hugging her.  
  
"Don't be sorry. You told me what it would be like. I still married you, didn't I? Like I'm gonna let a bunch of ignorant buggers ruin the best thing that ever happened to me!" Dill glared at him. "So don't you ever doubt that our marriage is a good, solid one, because it is."  
  
"Thank you," Ty whispered softly into her neck. "Thank you for loving me, Dill. Thank you for making me a father, and thank you for not pushing me until you knew I was ready. Thank you for taking the risk."  
  
"You silly," Dill giggled. "You just don't realise, do you? You're so easy to love, Tyrus Cassius McQueen, but you need to let people love you. It's okay to be loved." She stood up and reached for his hand. "Come on, sexy - let's do some real packing now, shall we? I'm looking forward to spending some time with just you and me together - no distractions, and no children. Just sunshine, sea, and lots and lots of fantastic sex."  
  
Taking Dill's hand and allowing her to pull him up, Ty grinned. "Do we really need to get away for that? I thought we had fantastic sex anyway."  
  
"Oh, we do," she snickered. "But you know how those 'little soldiers' like the sea air. Maybe we'll get lucky again."  
  
"What is it with you?" he smiled as they made their way out of the room and up the stairs. "You're obsessed with babies, aren't you?"  
  
Dill just smiled at him and laughed as Ty sighed loudly.  
  
The next morning, Moira having dropped them off, they stood on the quayside watching as the steward collected their luggage and prepared to show them to their cabin.  
  
"This way if you please, Mr. and Mrs. McQueen," he said, hurriedly hustling them onto the yacht. "We're running a bit late, so I'm afraid I have to get you settled and dash off for the next arrivals."  
  
They followed him down a corridor or two until he stopped at a polished mahogany door. "You have what I think is the nicest cabin - wonderful views from the stateroom and the bathroom. I'll just place your luggage here, sir, and I'll be along in an hour to make sure you've settled in and found all the remotes and such. Try the bed. The ladies love it, and we have a full range of...," he winked at McQueen, "enjoyable items in the bedside cabinet. Why, thank you, sir!" he smiled as McQueen tipped him.  
  
Turning, McQueen could see that Dill was stretched out full length on the bed. "This bed vibrates," she giggled. "Mind you, I should think a vibrating bed and the sea would make you seasick."  
  
"Apparently there are 'enjoyable items' in the cabinet there," Ty told her, shaking his head as she immediately opened the door.  
  
"Oh my," she whispered. "I think most of these will be staying in here."  
  
"Why?" he asked, going to see. His eyes widened as she brought out a large black dildo, and something that looked like a spike with nodules on the end. "I don't even want to think about where that goes."  
  
Dill's head bent to her task as she slowly laid several more items on the bed for him to see. "These, I think, are nipple clamps."  
  
"Ouch!" Ty winced, his hand automatically reaching to his chest. "What else?" he asked.  
  
"These, but I don't know what they are," she said, placing in his hand a small silver loop with four small chains hanging from it. At the end of each chain was a tiny polished gem. "Well, it's no bigger than a dangly earring, but it's obviously not that."  
  
They both sat and examined it, trying to work out what it could be, until Dill finally said, "Shall I ask him, when he comes back? Or do you think that'd be too embarrassing?"  
  
McQueen shrugged his shoulders, putting the tiny jewellery down on top of the cabinet. "Who knows? "  
  
Dill was rummaging again. Chuckling, she held out for him to see a pair of handcuffs and a whip. She placed them on the bed, and grinning, reached into the cupboard again, this time bringing out a selection of bottles. "We have," she announced, "Pleasure Gel, Cock Rub, Slide and Ride, and a selection of massage oils. Oh, and some body paints."  
  
Ty grinned at her. "Nothing else?"  
  
Dill checked again. "Yes, some condoms, flavoured and glow-in-the-dark. And this round thing, but I'm not sure what it is." She held it up for him to see.  
  
"I know what it is,"McQueen grinned wickedly. "Want me to show you?" He began to undo his pants.  
  
"Oh, my god - do I really want to know?" she laughed.  
  
"You wanna put it on me, or shall I?" he asked, his voice low and husky.  
  
"You mean this fits on your....." Dill tailed off before bursting out laughing. "What the hell is it for?"  
  
"It's supposed to help me keep it up,"he chuckled. "It's a cock ring."  
  
"I gathered that by the way you were so eager to demonstrate," she laughed. "But why? You never have trouble getting it up. Or keeping it up, for that matter."  
  
"It feels good though," he told her. "Sure you don't wanna see?"  
  
"I think later... maybe," Dill told him, beginning to put everything back. "I'm still intrigued as to what this is though." She picked up the small bejewelled loop. "It doesn't look like it's supposed to hook around a nipple, and if that was it, there'd be two surely? It's way too small to fit around you, so what the hell is it?"  
  
"I'm sure we'll find out," Ty told her, coming to lie on the bed next to her.  
  
"I'm going to have a shower and get changed into some shorts," she told him. "I'll be back in a minute. Behave yourself."  
  
"Of course," he said absently, holding the small silver loop up to the light. Whatever it was for, it was very pretty.  
  
There was a tap on the door. Getting up, McQueen still held the strange item in his hand. The steward stood there, a grin on his face.  
  
"I see you found the fun items, sir. Very pretty, don't you think?"  
  
"Just what exactly is it?" McQueen asked.  
  
"Clitoral jewels, sir. They fit over the lady's clitoris and make her look pretty for you. Very popular with the gentlemen, we find. Now is there anything else I can help you with?"  
  
"Err, no thank you." McQueen just wanted him gone, mortified at the answer he'd been given and flushing beetroot red.  
  
Once the steward had left, he smiled wickedly and headed for the bathroom. "Dill, I found out what this is. Let me show you!" he called.  
  
They were late for lunch.  
  
As they entered the dining room, they could see three other couples seated already around a large oval table. Two of the couples were young, obviously newlyweds. But the third couple seemed older and more settled.  
  
It was next to this couple that Dill and McQueen found themselves seated. Introducing themselves as Floyd and Thelma, they chatted away constantly, to the utter bemusement of McQueen. He found himself being asked all manner of odd questions by Thelma until, towards the end of the meal, he turned his head to speak to Dill, who was seated across the table to his right, and heard a sharply indrawn breath.  
  
"A tank! We came all this way and we have to spend our vacation with a goddamn tank and his whore," Thelma spat.  
  
Slowly he turned his head to look at her. "And I came all this way to spend my vacation with a bigot."  
  
Across the table, Dill couldn't believe her ears. Was this really Ty challenging Thelma like that? After all he'd said to her!  
  
An explosive laugh rang out. "Go on, man. You tell her!" It was Floyd, her husband. "Don't take no notice of her. She don't mean nothing by it. I guess it was a shock, is all. Don't get many tanks around where we come from."  
  
"First of all," Dill spoke softly, but with a tone of pure steel, "my husband is not a tank. He is an invitro. He also just happens to be a decorated war hero, and if it were not for him and the people he fights with, you'd probably have been dead several times over by now." She stood up, throwing her napkin onto the table. "If you'll excuse me, I lost my appetite!"  
  
McQueen watched Dill as she stomped out, her back straight and her head held high. He was tempted to follow her, but his sheer stubborn pride kept him at the table, knowing that all six people seated at the table were looking at him.  
  
A hand appeared in front of him, ready to clear his plate. "Are you finished, sir?" a soft female voice spoke in his ear. At his nod, the plate disappeared, and again the voice spoke. "Is there anything I can get you, sir? Anything at all?"  
  
He looked up into a pair of deep, dark brown eyes that twinkled at him, and a wide easy smile. "No. No, thank you," he told her.  
  
"Some fruit, sir? Cheese perhaps? A drink? "  
  
"No,"McQueen told her. "Nothing, thanks."  
  
The others at the table watched him, openly staring. He sighed. "What's the matter? Have none of you seen an invitro before? Don't worry, I won't be disgracing myself at the table. Nor will I be chasing your wives!" he added, getting up from his seat, suddenly furious with the lot of them.  
  
"I didn't imagine you'd be chasing mine,"a young British voice said from further down the table. "After all, you have a perfectly good one of your own."  
  
McQueen turned and glared at the speaker. The young man grinned back good humouredly and held out a hand. "Valentine," he said. "Valentine Bertorelli." He grinned at McQueen's raised eyebrows. "A mouthful, I know. My grandparents are Italian, and I expect you can guess my birthday."  
  
"McQueen. TC McQueen." He shook the outstretched hand. "And that was Dylan, my wife."  
  
"This is Isabella. She's my wife." Ty reached a hand towards the tall red head facing him. "She's not Italian. My parents hate her, and she hates pasta. What more could a man ask?"  
  
McQueen smiled. "What more indeed?" For some reason he found himself liking this relaxed young man.  
  
"I recognise that name," the mousey haired woman opposite him piped up. "And the face. You're the man who beat that Richthofen person, aren't you? You were in all the news stories that day." She suddenly stopped and flamed bright red.  
  
Her husband smiled. "You'll have to forgive Emily. She's a hopeless romantic and thought you were the most marvellous thing she'd ever seen." He paused. "That didn't come out right. I don't mean you're a thing. I mean...," he stopped, flustered, as McQueen simply stared at him.  
  
"And you are?" he asked.  
  
"Joseph Mills. And you already know she's Emily." He gingerly stretched out a hand. "I'm pleased to meet you, sir."  
  
"And me, you," he sighed. This was awful. He was going to spend the week being talked at by these people, when all he really wanted to do was spend the time with Dill. He hated the idea of enforced jollity, and prayed that no one was going to suggest they played any kind of parlour games. If they did that, he was jumping overboard.  
  
"Well, I guess you already met me and Thelma," Floyd grinned. "So you're the famous Colonel McQueen, eh? Not much to look at, are you, sonny?"  
  
Down the table came the sound of someone gasping. McQueen glanced over - it was Emily Mills, her hand clasped firmly over her mouth, her eyes wide.  
  
"My wife has never complained," Ty growled. "If you'll excuse me, I think I'll go find her." Reaching for his cane, he left the table.  
  
He flew down the hallway at such a pace that he almost fell when he reached a flight of steps. A hand grabbed him and he looked into the brown eyes of the woman who'd served them dinner.  
  
"Do you need a hand, sir?" she asked, her voice low and husky.  
  
"No, thank you, I can manage," Ty told her, ignoring the look in her eye. He'd seen it before many times, the look of someone who wanted to find out if everything they'd heard about tanks was true.  
  
"Are you sure, sir?" she whispered, her hand still holding his arm where she'd grabbed him.  
  
"Yes, I'm sure!" he snapped. He'd had enough. What he wanted was to see Dill, and to have her hug him and tell him that this week wasn't the disaster he was sure it would be.  
  
"Well, if you insist, sir," she sighed, her hand wandering along his arm until he shrugged her off and moved away. "If you change your mind!" she called after his retreating back.  
  
"Not bloody likely!" he muttered to himself.  
  
Reaching their cabin, Ty was so pleased to see her that Dill immediately knew something more was wrong.  
  
"Sit down and tell me," she told him, pushing him onto the bed and cuddling up behind him.  
  
"That woman," he sighed.  
  
"Thelma?" she asked, stroking his back.  
  
"No, the girl who served us lunch. She's coming on to me," Ty said quietly.  
  
"Good grief,"Dill exclaimed. "We've been here what, four hours? And already women are throwing themselves at you."  
  
"Women?"  
  
"I saw the way that mousey woman was ogling you," she laughed.  
  
"Emily? Apparently I'm the most marvellous thing she's ever seen," Ty sighed.  
  
"So you know her name, do you? Should I take that as an omen?"  
  
"An omen? What the hell are you talking about? After you left it turned into a 'let's all introduce ourselves to the tank' session." He leaned back into Dill's arms, revelling in the feeling as she slipped them around his waist, her chin resting on his shoulder.  
  
"We've only been here a few hours and already you're unhappy," she whispered. "This is supposed to be a nice, relaxing week."  
  
"I'm not unhappy, "he said quietly. "But do you think we could eat dinner in here?"  
  
"Of course, my lover. I've been looking at the literature in here. They do room service, so that's not a problem. We can watch a movie too, if you'd like," Dill told him, kissing his cheek. "It's not so bad. We have a lovely cabin to hide out in if you need to."  
  
"A movie? Anything good?" Ty asked eagerly.  
  
"If by that you mean those dreadful old W.C. Fields or Marx brothers movies, then no there's not. Oddly enough, my lover, not everyone likes them. And they're not exactly honeymoon material, are they?" she chuckled, reaching for the large leather bound book on the bedside table. "Here - take a look through this. See if there's anything you fancy."  
  
Ty took the book and began idly flipping through the pages. His eyebrows rising as he did so. "Honeymoon material, eh?" He stared at her. "Is that what they call it now? So, how about 'Bouncing Babes in Mud' or 'Lick Me, Bite Me, Beat Me'. Or here's one you might like, Dill." He was beginning to chuckle now. "'Big Boys Ride Out'."  
  
"You're making those up!" Dill giggled. "Anyway, I have my very own big boy to ride." Her hands stroking up his sides, gently tickling him. "And a very good ride you are, too."  
  
"I found it!" McQueen laughed, twisting to get away from Dill's tickling. "This is the one for us - 'Hot Jocks in Space: the adventures of five young, nubile recruits and their sexy Commanding Officer."  
  
"Now I know you're making it up!" Dill laughed, pulling him backwards onto the bed and tickling him harder. "After all - who's ever met a sexy CO?"  
  
Dropping the book, Ty fought against her, laughing as she squirmed away from him as he began to tickle her. "You hate to be tickled, don't you, Dill? Your feet especially."  
  
"Touch my feet and you're a dead man, McQueen!" she squealed.  
  
Clamping a foot firmly under his arm, he began very gently running a finger up and down the sole as she wriggled against him, her other foot pressing into his back. "How about that?" he chuckled. "Too much for you?" He increased the pressure as he began to tickle her foot properly.  
  
"I mean it Ty," Dill warned him. "I'm not laughing any more. I'm serious here - leave my feet alone. You know I hate it."  
  
Dropping her foot, he scooted up the bed next to her. "You don't object to me touching them when we're making love," he said.  
  
"That's different," she smiled. "Anyway, did you find a movie you wanted to watch?"  
  
"I told you, 'Hot Jocks in Space'," he grinned.  
  
"You're not making it up?" Dill asked, stunned.  
  
"Nope. The only movies in that book are blue movies," Ty told her.  
  
"Are you sure? When I looked at it earlier it was all sappy romantic stuff that I knew you'd hate."  
  
"When did you look at it?" he asked. "Before or after lunch?"  
  
"Before, while you were showering." Dill looked at him. "So someone thinks it's funny to change the movie selection for the tank and his whore!"  
  
McQueen's face turned to stone. "How do we contact that bloody steward!" he almost yelled.  
  
"Phone," Dill said simply. "But calm down a bit first, please."  
  
Glaring at her, Ty picked up the phone. "This is Colonel McQueen in cabin...,"he looked at Dill. "What cabin are we?" He turned back to the phone. "Oh, ok, you know what cabin. Why did you change our movie selection when we went for lunch? Is this someone's idea of a joke?" McQueen stood listening for a moment and Dill thought she could see steam emerging from his ears. "Oh, you did, did you?" he snarled into the phone. "Well, you can just change it back again! The fact that I'm an invitro does not affect my taste in movies, and if you ever assume anything like that again, mister I'll throw you over the side of this damned boat!" He slammed the phone down and slumped onto the bed with a growl.  
  
"So?" Dill reached to stroke his hair, rubbing his temples where she could see a vein throbbing.  
  
"When they found out at lunch that I'm a tank, they realised the films were wrong for me, because it's a well known fact that tanks are into sex big- time. Anyplace, anytime, anyone. So they kindly changed the movies to something that would be more suitable for me" he groaned. "They've also added a few things to the 'pleasure cabinet', I believe he called it."  
  
Unable to help herself, Dill checked. "Oh my!" she gasped.  
  
"What?" Ty demanded, sitting up.  
  
"Well...," Dill started, then looking at his face, she brought out an arrangement of straps and scarves. "It would seem we have a full range of bondage gear, including a gag. And this thing, which I suspect is a strap on." She held up what looked like a leather harness with a dildo attached. "My god, do they really think that simply because you're an invitro you want me to put this on and fuck your brains out?"  
  
"They assumed that I like it hard core," he whispered.  
  
Dill could see tears welling in his eyes. "Oh, baby" she cooed. "Come here to me."  
  
Ty wriggled until he was lying in her arms, and she was stroking his hair. "You know I'd never do that to you, don't you?"  
  
"Yes," he nodded, his voice low and barely audible. "I hate that, Dill. I truly do. It was done so much to me in the mines that I associate it only with pain."  
  
"What about my pokey finger? Want me to stop with that?" she whispered gently in his ear.  
  
"No," he smiled. "That's fine. But I don't want you putting anything other than that inside me."  
  
"Not without you wanting it, Ty. Not ever," Dill told him.  
  
"Good," he whispered as a knock sounded on the door.  
  
"I'll get it," Dill told him. "You stay right there, mister!"  
  
"Yes, Dill," he smiled.  
  
Getting off the bed, Dill grabbed the book and opened the door.  
  
The steward stood there, looking slightly afraid. "I brought you the correct movie schedule, Mrs. McQueen. I'm terribly sorry for the mix up. It was an honest mistake, I assure you!"  
  
Dill handed over her book and took the other in exchange. "If anything like this happens again, rest assured we will be making a serious complaint."  
  
"Yes, ma'am," he said. "But I assure you it won't."  
  
"It had better not!" Dill told him, before slamming the door in his face.  
  
"Here you go, lover. Take a peek at that. Choose us a movie, and we'll order some popcorn and drinks and snug up for the afternoon," she smiled, handing the book to McQueen.  
  
"No kids," he sighed. "I love our children, Dill. I really do. But no diapers, no changing wet pants, no temper tantrums, no arguing with them to get them to eat their vegetables. Heaven!"  
  
"Excuse me?" Dill laughed. "You side with them on the vegetable issue. I heard you telling Hamish that you never ate vegetables when you were his age, and that he didn't have to eat his carrots if he didn't want to. You neglected to tell him that at his age you were still in a growth tank and didn't eat anything."  
  
Ty looked up from the book. "What are we going to tell them about that? One day they'll ask, and what will we say?"  
  
"We'll tell them the truth - that daddy doesn't have a mummy or daddy like they do. That he didn't grow in his mummy's tummy like Izzy did. And that he was never a little boy like they are. I already have some suitable stuff downloaded from the net for them, specifically aimed at their age group," Dill smiled. "It occurred to me when I was carrying Izzy."  
  
"See, that's why I married you," he grinned. "You think of everything."  
  
"You flatterer, you!" she laughed. "I hope you married me for better reasons than that. Now come on, have you picked a movie yet?"  
  
"It's all sappy stuff," he said, "or those old action movies. You know - Schwarzenegger and Stallone. You don't wanna watch that, do you?"  
  
"Oh, I don't know. Is it that one with the AI? I haven't seen that one, but Iona says it's a classic," she asked, stretching herself out on the bed. "We can plump up these cushions and get really snuggled. And I opened those windows, so we get a nice breeze too."  
  
"I think it's that one," he said reading carefully through the review. "Terminator. Oh, and they have the second and third ones, too." He looked up at her and grinned. "Can you take a whole day of staring at movies?"  
  
"So long as I'm with you, and you hold me during any scary bits, I'm happy," Dill smiled. "We can get dinner delivered here and be really lazy."  
  
"Okay then." Ty reached for the phone. "Are you really sure?" he asked again.  
  
"Give me that phone!" she snapped. "Of course I'm bloody sure!"  
  
Grinning, he booked the movies and ordered a bowl of popcorn and some drinks. By the time the popcorn had arrived, they were stretched out on the bed. Dill lqy with her head in Ty's lap watching the first movie, laughing as McQueen groaned about how unbelievable the storyline was.  
  
They spent the afternoon watching the films, bickering about whether or not it was actually credible, and trying to work out the logistics of time travel. An awful lot of popcorn got eaten, followed by ice cream and then pizza, before finally Ty undressed Dill where she lay asleep on the bed and slipped her under the covers, climbing in beside her and holding her close as she softly snored in his arms. With a soft kiss to the back of her head, he closed his eyes, ready for sleep himself. 


	7. 7

Promo Chapter 7.

Moira smiled. This house looked the best yet, she thought. She'd organised the family's travel home to Scotland in two days time, but until then she'd decided to keep scouting out houses for Dill and Ty. This one looked like it would really fit the bill. It backed onto the river, it had an indoor pool with a roll top roof, and five large bedrooms, according to the literature. And heaven knew just how many more children they'd produce, Moira thought. A large family-sized kitchen, a dining room, a large living room and a family room. Not to mention a study and four bathrooms. And - she glanced at the papers in her hand - space for two cars. She looked up at the house. The clincher, she knew, was the wrap around porch. Dill would love it.

Moira glanced in the rear-view mirror. All three children were asleep. Despite the fact that they'd already visited four houses that day, they had been surprisingly well behaved. There'd been a bit of a fuss at the second house when Cameron had insisted that Cashus didn't like the house and wouldn't go in there. Even Hamish had been unable to change his mind. He'd sat in the car, tears rolling down his face, until they came back out, finally telling her that Cashus said it was a 'bad house where ouches happened lots'. Moira looked at him asleep now, his blonde curls longer than they had ever been, curling around his ears, but still short enough to know that he was a boy. She glanced at the others. Hamish's hair had been cut the day before. Gone were his curls, and now with the blonde cropped hair he resembled his father even more. And Izzy, with the big bouncy curls like her mother had. Brown, unlike the white blonde of her brothers, and chubby in a way the boys had never been. In fact, to Moira's dismay, Ty had taken to calling her his 'dumpling'.

She jumped as a small silver sports car pulled up in a flurry of gravel, waking all three children.

"Gamma?" Hamish asked sleepily. "More houses, Gamma?"

"Last one darling," she smiled at him. "Are you ready to visit this one?"

"Yes, Gamma,"he yawned.

"What about you, Cameron?" she asked, turning in her seat to look at him. "Are you ready darling?"

"Yes, Gamma," he smiled tiredly. "Can I have a drink, please?"

"Of course, my sweet," Moira smiled. "Let's get everyone out of the car, and I'll get the bag out of the boot." She was glad now that when they'd stopped for lunch she'd had the foresight to stock up on drinks and treats for the children. Opening the doors, she undid the boys' seatbelts and let them climb out themselves, smiling as they both stretched arms skyward and bent their backs in an unconscious imitation of their father. She turned, Isobel in her arms, to see Cameron staring at a tall, slim blonde woman.

"Mrs. Mackenzie?" she asked. "What lovely children you have."

Moira smiled back. "They're my grandchildren, actually. My daughter and her husband are having a well earned break, so we're busy checking out houses, aren't we, boys?"

"Uh huh," Hamish agreed with his big, wide grin. "Mummy wants a new house for daddy."

"Oh, I see," the real estate agent said knowingly. "A divorce in the offing, so you're looking for a house for when he has the children?"

"I sincerely doubt a divorce is on the cards," Moira shook her head, smiling. "He's in the military. We need somewhere for him to live that's suitable for when the whole family come and visit. Home is too far away for him to commute."

"Oh, sorry," the woman smiled. "Let's do this properly, shall we?" She held out her hand. "Amy Wilkinson."

"Moira Mackenzie," Moira shook her hand. "And these are Hamish, Cameron and Isobel."

"What charming names," Amy said brightly, instantly ignoring them as not important. "Now shall we get down to business? I believe this may well be exactly what you're looking for. Come along, let's go inside, shall we?" She turned to the boys, who both stood, thumbs in mouths, staring at her. "Don't touch anything."

Moira followed her around the house with interest. Amy certainly knew her stuff, and Moira was convinced she could sell ice to the Eskimos. But she was getting annoyed at the way Amy kept telling the boys not to touch anything. Not that they had - Cameron hadn't even so much as touched a wall.

By the end of the tour Moira was convinced that this was the house, and was prepared to make an offer on it. "I think, Ms. Wilkinson, that this might just be the place. I'd like to make an offer, but I think my daughter and her husband need to see it too. Can I make a provisional offer?"

"Certainly you can. When do you think they'll be able to come by?" Amy asked.

"Well, they left on their cruise yesterday. It's eight days, so they'll be back at the end of next week. Unfortunately I fly home with the children the day after tomorrow, so any arrangements need to be made now."

"I'm sure we can accommodate you, Mrs. Mackenzie, and organise for your daughter and her husband to view it when they return. I can get the paperwork ready for you by tomorrow and perhaps drop in to see you with it. Would that be acceptable?"

"Perfect," Moira said. "It means I don't have to drag the children out again, and I can get on with the packing. They seem to have accumulated so much extra in just four weeks. Of course a lot of it is daddy spoiling them, but he can't help it. He doesn't get to see a great deal of them."

"No, I don't suppose so. That's one disadvantage of being in the military, especially with this damned war on," Amy smiled. "So if I can just take your address, I can get this sorted out for you as soon as possible."

By the time Moira drove the children home she was feeling very pleased with herself. She knew that Dylan would love the house. It was bright and airy, it had the bedrooms and bathrooms she wanted, the pool that TC wanted, and a study that would make him a perfect office, overlooking the garden so he could watch the children playing while he was supposed to be working. Of course there was always the threat that they might choose to live there permanently, but she was sure that would never happen. Dylan loved her home in the Highlands so much that she was sure to find some way to persuade him to live with them there.

The following day Amy arrived with the paperwork ready for Moira to sign. Having read it through thoroughly and reassured herself that Dill could back out if she hated the house, Moira invited Amy to stay for lunch.

It started out a little awkwardly when Cameron sat Cashus on a chair of his own and climbed up to sit beside Hamish, snuggling with him as Hamish wrapped an arm around him protectively. Amy went to sit down on the chair, and picked Cashus up as though he was infectious, putting him on the table.

"That's Cashus' chair!" Hamish told her sternly.

"And just who is Cashus, dear?" Amy asked in a voice that showed she had little regular contact with children.

"You put him on the table," Cameron whispered. "He wanted that chair."

"He's a dolly, dear. He wouldn't want a chair," Amy said dismissively. She smiled at Moira. "The things children say. So the house – suitable, do you think?"

"Oh, yes, I'd say so,"Moira told her, putting Isobel in her highchair. "My daughter will have to view it when they get back from their trip, but I suspect she'll think it's okay."

"She's a military wife, did you say?" Amy asked. "I used to be one of those. She has my sympathy, and there wasn't even a war on when I was married."

"Oh, I don't think she needs sympathy. They're perfectly happy together," Moira told her as she began laying out the lunch. "I take it you're divorced then, are you?"

"Oh, yes. I married a pilot, only to find he was married already... to his aircraft. Of course we had problems because he was away so much too, but at least we didn't have children. How does your daughter cope, three children and a husband in the military?" Amy smiled.

"I really couldn't say, but they've been together for five years now, and very happy they are too. Of course when I say together, I mean when he gets leave. Which in my opinion is not often enough," Moira told her.

"If he's anything like my ex-husband, he won't be taking all the leave he's entitled to either," Amy laughed. "Mind you, I didn't complain. He drove me mad when he was home, always out running or exercising. And to be honest, the most immature man I ever met - behaved like a child half the time."

"Don't all men?" Moira reasoned. "Sounds a bit like my son-in-law though. He's a great one for early mornings. Of course when he's home he's too busy with the children, though he has been known to take Izzy here with him, in a backpack on his back. As to leave... well, as you said, there is a war on, and unfortunately he's been on the frontlines for most of it."

"I expect mine thinks he's died and gone to heaven with this war," Amy smiled. "Although, saying that, he's remarried now so possibly not. But I'm sure the minute he heads back to his ship all thoughts of his family are wiped from his mind."

"Gamma?" Hamish asked. "Do I gotta eat vegables?"

"As you know full well, this is salad and yes, darling, you do,"Moira smiled. "You too, Cameron."

"Daddy doesn't make us eat vegables," Cameron told her with a grin.

"Well, he's a naughty daddy then,"Moira told them. "Now come on and eat up. As soon as you're finished, you can go and play. And when Izzy's finished, I want you to be quiet while I put her down for a nap. She's a very tired girl."

"Okay, Gamma." Hamish sighed, then looked up, telling her," Daddy's naughty. Mummy got an ouchie."

"But that ouchie was an accident, darling. He didn't mean it," Moira smiled. "Now eat your lunch like a good boy."

Having eaten their lunch, the boys climbed down from the chair they had shared. Cameron reached across the table to grab Cashus. As he grabbed for the doll, the boy's eyes widened in shock as he brushed against Amy's arm, and he jumped back sharply. "You hurt my daddy," he whispered, all thoughts of Cashus gone from his mind as he glared at her.

Hamish looked at his brother. "She hurt daddy?" he asked, turning to give Amy a glare of his own. "You're bad!"

"I don't know your daddy," Amy said. She frowned - there was something familiar about the glares she was getting. Ignoring the boys, she turned to Moira. "So what does your son-in-law do then? My husband was a Captain in the Marines when I met him. Worst arm of the military there is - totally blinkered. You have no idea how relieved I was to finally divorce him. Of course I knew not long after we married that I'd made the biggest mistake of my life."

Moira just stared at her. Shaking her head, she spoke to the boys, "Amy here didn't hurt daddy. How can she, when she's never met him? Come and say sorry for being so mean to her."

Cameron shook his head. "No!" he yelled. "I want Cashus! "

Hamish took his lead from Cameron and dashed to the table, grabbing Cashus and giving him to Cameron. "No, Gamma. She's bad!"

Moira sighed. "I know two boys who will get no treats unless they say sorry right now!"

Cameron turned his back and walked away. After a second's hesitancy, Hamish followed, taking Cameron's hand.

"Stubborn as mules, just like their father," Moira smiled. "I'm so sorry. I do apologise for their behaviour."

It might have ended there if Hamish hadn't turned, and seeing that Moira was busy with Isobel, poked his tongue out at Amy. Cameron, seeing him do, it followed suit.

"Well, obviously you have no discipline" Amy told them sternly. "I can't remember when I've met two more naughty children!"

"Well, as you have none of your own, I really don't think you can make that accusation," Moira told her sharply, looking at the boys to see what they'd done now. "I think, young men, that if you can't be nice you'd better say sorry and go play in the garden."

"Thank god I had none," Amy snapped. "My stupid husband wanted to, but fortunately for me he wasn't able to. He has some now though. Goodness knows what he put the mouse he married through to get them! He married the tiniest mouse he could find, I'm sure. I expect she does exactly as she's told at all times. I'd love to be a fly on the wall in that household. I'll bet he makes her address him using his rank!"

"Surely not?" Moira asked, getting fed up with this dreadful woman. She took Isobel out of her chair, getting ready to take her for a nap.

"Oh, yes. They have children too. I expect they have to do exactly what they're told, and I'll bet they all have schedules he's drawn up. The man was so tight arsed you'd never believe it!" Amy laughed.

Cameron appeared at Moira's side. "Gamma, can we go play now? Cashus wants to go play."

"Yes, darling, you can take Cashus out to play now."

"Thank you, Gamma. Cashus says thank you, too," he smiled.

"Why do you indulge him with that doll?" Amy asked, confused.

"It's a long story," Moira smiled. "I'll be right back. This young lady is dropping off in my arms." She took Isobel off to put her in her cot.

Once Moira had left the room, Cameron spoke. "Cashus doesn't like you. He says you're a bad, bad lady."

"That's okay, because I don't like Cashus either. He's nasty and rude," Amy said crossly.

"Cashus says you hurt my daddy," Cameron accused her, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

Turning to him, she grabbed his doll. "This is a dolly! It can't talk to you!"

"Give back Cashus!" Hamish was there instantly, defending his brother.

"Here," she said, holding it out. "It's a dirty, smelly thing anyway. And you really ought to wash it occasionally. Stop telling lies about it talking. Lies are wrong no matter how old you are!"

"McQueens don't tell lies!" Hamish bridled, snatching Cashus from her and giving it to Cameron.

"McQueens?" Amy said, horrified. "Is that who you are? Oh my god - you're his brats, aren't you?"

"What's brats?" Cameron asked, anxious at this exchange between his beloved brother and this bad woman.

"You are you, and this horrible brother of yours! I should have recognised you. I thought there was something familiar. My god, the two of you look just like him!" she snapped at the boy.

Moira hurried in, having heard Amy's raised voice, and stared at her. "You're Amy... the Amy?"

"What if I am?" she challenged.

"Well," Moira drew in a breath. "That 'tiny mouse' he married is my daughter, and I believe when the two of you met, you came off worst in the encounter! I can assure you that TC does not demand any special treatment. Though, God bless him, he certainly needs it, and some of that I put down to you." She turned to the boys. "Go and play in your bedroom please, boys."Seeing Cameron's reluctance to go, she spoke to Hamish. "Hamish, take your brother and Cashus, and go to your room right now."

"Yes, Gamma,"he whispered, grabbing Cameron's arm and dragging him away.

"Me?" Amy practically yelled. "You put what down to me?"

"Yes, you. Do you have any idea how much damage you did to him? You led him a merry dance until you got bored, and then you dropped him like yesterdays newspaper! And my daughter had to deal with the repercussions of that," Moira snapped at her. "Fortunately Dylan is made of sterner stuff. She's spent the time picking up the pieces and putting in the work, and now she has a husband to be proud of."

"Oh, yes, I'll bet. And three tank brats too. How much did it cost to get them? How much pressure did he put her under?" Amy sneered.

"It cost nothing but some honest to goodness love making!" Moira snapped back. "And don't you speak to my boys like that. They are two and a half years old, for goodness sake. Mere babies! Thank goodness I'm taking them home."

"Home? Tanks call nowhere home!"

"It sounds to me like TC is not the only one who needs therapy. But at least he's doing something about it!" Moira told her.

"It won't last. Wait until he comes home permanently, then you'll see what an aggravating, sulky bastard he really is!"

Moira had had enough. Closing the kitchen door on the children, she turned. "What he ever saw in you, I have no idea. But did it ever just once cross your tiny mind that he's not as old as he looks? Even now he's learning everyday. He must have been like a child when he met you. Did you ever consider that? You said he was immature? Well, of course he was! He was no doubt nothing more than a scared, sulky teenager in the body of a man. His hormones running wild, his body reacting one way while his emotions tried desperately catch up. Did you ever think about what life was like for him in those bloody mines? What he must have gone through? Did it ever cross your mind that he needed reassurance that his whole damn life wasn't going to be like that? Did you ever think to comfort him? To just hold him in your arms and let him know you loved him? Or was that the problem? You didn't love him."

"And I suppose your precious daughter does?" Amy sneered.

"Take a look around. What did you see over lunch? Three children who have a daddy they adore, despite the fact that they hardly see him. Does that tell you anything? Look at the way the boys reacted to the idea that you'd hurt their daddy. And Cashus was right, wasn't he?" Moira glowered. "Dylan works incredibly hard to keep their family together. I'd guess she's dealt with things you never had to, but one thing's for sure - she never walked away from the man she loves! Now excuse me, but I think you had better be going now."

"Things I never had to deal with? You mean his nightmares? Oh, I dealt with those. After the first one I refused to let him in my bed. There was no way he was hitting me again! I refused to allow my husband to abuse me!" Amy sneered again, standing up and heading for the door.

"Did you ever try to find out what those nightmares were about? Did you ever think that maybe he couldn't help himself while he was having a nightmare? Did you ever try to understand?" Moira followed her to the car and watched her as she drove away, before turning and going back inside.

She headed to the boys room, and standing in the doorway, sighed as she watched Hamish hugging his brother, telling him it was going to be alright - that daddy would make it better when he came home.

"But I want daddy now!" Cameron sobbed.

"Daddy's not here,"Hamish told him. "He's with mummy onna boat."

"I don't want daddy onna boat. I wan' him here," Cameron cried.

"I's here,"Hamish hugged him closer. "Izzy's here. Cashus here, and gamma too."

"B... bu...but I need daddy," Cameron sobbed.

"Cashus needs you. He tole me," Hamish whispered to him.

"Cashus says daddy's not happy onna boat,"Cameron sobbed.

Frowning, Moira stepped into the room. Taking Cameron in her arms, she smiled at Hamish.

"Good boy, Hamish. You're making him feel better."

"He's crying," Hamish shrugged, throwing himself on a bed. "Gamma, Cashus says daddy not happy onna boat. Is daddy happy?"

"Of course he is. He's got mummy with him," Moira smiled. "And he loves mummy very much, doesn't he?"

Hamish nodded, happy now that Moira was here.

"Mummy knows how to make daddy happy," Cameron sobbed into Moira's shoulder.

"Yes, darling, I'm sure she does," she smiled. "Now why don't both you boys have a nap? I think all this crying must have made you very tired."

"Mummy sucks his penis and that makes him happy." Cameron yawned as Moira laid him down onto the bed.

"I'm sure it does," Moira chuckled. "And how do you know that, young man? Been peeping in doors again?"

"I saw her. I thought daddy had a snake bite, but mummy said no, she was making him happy," he mumbled, his eyes drooping as he snuggled in the bed.

Shaking her head laughing, Moira kissed both boys, and closing the door, headed towards the kitchen. snake bite, she chuckled.

Reaching the kitchen, she saw the house papers on the counter. Sighing, she picked them up. It was a lovely house, and she knew that Dill would love it, but there was no way that Amy could show them around it. Moira was angry with Amy for ruining the house for them, and threw the papers down while she made herself a cup of tea.

Whilst sitting drinking her tea a few minutes later it occurred to Moira that she should just go ahead and buy the house now. If they didn't like it they could sell it again. But it would give them a base to look from. She picked up the phone and asking to speak to the person in charge, and explained her predicament. Half an hour later she hung up. The house had no chain, and therefore as her offer was the best they had had, the sellers had agreed and the house was hers. She had also insisted that someone other than Amy Wilkinson show Dill and Ty around it, on the understanding that if they arrived and she was there the sale would be cancelled.

Of course it meant she now had to cancel hers and the children's flights home, as she was going to have to be there to see the sale finalised and sort out the details. But that would be a small price to pay, to see Dylan's face when she saw the house.

Picking up her now cold tea, Moira smiled. Dylan was going to love it. She knew it.


	8. 8

Promo chapter 8.

McQueen lay stretched out on a recliner, wearing nothing more than a pair of dark blue swim shorts and his sunglasses. His eyes were closed and he was thinking about the lunch they'd just had, while he waited for Dill to come back with the suntan lotion. He'd never been especially keen on fish, but somehow knowing they truly were freshly caught had increased his appetite, and he'd really enjoyed them. Ty pondered the people they were confined with. He knew that Thelma was going to be a pain in the butt for the entire duration of their trip, but Valentine seemed okay. McQueen smiled to himself - there was something about the boy that was so just so relaxed. Joseph... well, he wasn't sure what to make of him. Nor of the other two women. He suspected if today were anything to go by, that Emily would get all giggly every time he spoke to her. But Valentine's wife Isabella? She looked as though she'd not a thought in that pretty head of hers. Thelma's husband, Floyd, he suspected of feeling the same way Thelma did, but not having the guts to admit it.

Ty heard someone sit down next to him.

"Colonel?" a soft voice spoke. "You really shouldn't be laying there like that without sunscreen - you're so fair. I brought you some. Shall I rub you with it?"

Opening his eyes, his heart sank as he saw the crewmember who'd offered her services yesterday. "No, thank you. My wife has gone to get ours."

"Oh, but I could have you all rubbed up nicely by the time she gets back," she smiled at him, her voice low, her intent perfectly clear.

"I said no thank you," he snapped, then softened it with, "I'm allergic to most sunscreens, so I have to be careful which I use."

"Allergic?" she chuckled. "Oh, I don't think so. An invitro with allergies? You'll have to do better than that."

"Okay then," McQueen sat up and took his glasses off, glaring at her, "listen up. I'm not interested. Not in the slightest. Whatever you may have heard about invitros is not true. I'm not interested in anyone other than my wife. Do you understand that? I didn't come here to bed hop or shop around for someone new. I came with my wife. The mother of my children. Get it? Could I make it anymore clear? Now please leave me alone. I don't want you, nor am I likely to."

"Has anyone told you how attractive you are when you're angry?" she smiled.

McQueen groaned. "As a matter of fact, yes," he told her. "My wife. Remember her? Now please leave me alone."

Getting up, she smiled at him. "If you insist, but if you don't want company you shouldn't lay out here looking so damned divine. I'll be around if you want me." She walked off, passing Dill on her way back to him.

"Where the hell have you been?" he demanded, whilst admiring her small, bikini-clad body. She had a brightly coloured sarong wrapped tightly round her hips.

"Why? What's the matter?" Dill asked, bemused. "Not getting into mischief already, surely? I saw you chatting up that lovely crew member - just you remember you're married to me"

Glaring at her, he flung himself back down on the recliner. "If you must know, she was chatting me up. Wanted to 'rub' me all over. I told her I wasn't interested."

"Good boy," Dill chuckled. "But she had a good idea. After all, that's what I intend to do to you right now. So lay still and let me get on with it." Hiking up her sarong, she straddled his thighs, squirted some sunscreen onto her hands, and began to slowly smooth it over his chest. "You know, my lover, these scars look like they're finally fading. This one here around your shoulder especially. How's the mobility there? Any better now?"

"Not particularly. I still can't rotate that arm fully. I probably never will be able to." Ty groaned as Dill's hands softly stroked his sun-warmed body.

"None of that, mister," she giggled, feeling his body responding to her touch. "I'm rubbing in lotion, not making love to you."

"I wish you would, Dill," he whispered.

"Not here, Ty, surely?" She looked about nervously.

"Yes, here in the sunshine, with the breeze blowing over our bodies. Oh god, I wish I hadn't said blow," he moaned softly.

"Definitely not that. Not here," Dill giggled, wriggling herself onto his groin, feeling how aroused he was.

"You could say I had a snake bite," Ty chuckled as she wriggled some more. "You are an evil woman," he moaned as she ground herself onto his erection.

Looking around, Dill couldn't see a soul in sight. They were alone, for the time being at least. Taking a deep breath, she climbed off him and quickly slipped off her bikini bottom. Tucking them under his buttocks, she climbed back on top of Ty, thanking God for sarongs.

"Slip your shorts down," she whispered. "Hurry, before someone comes or I change my mind!"

"Oh God, Dill," he groaned, easing himself out of the swim shorts and holding himself steady as she slid down onto him.

"Lay still and let me just arrange this sarong," she giggled. Each time she moved, her movement made him gasp. "And be quiet!"

Once she had the sarong arranged to her satisfaction, Dill returned to her task of massaging in the sun lotion. Only this time she leant forwards and upwards, sliding herself up and down his length, stopping occasionally to kiss him, trying not to make it obvious what they were doing.

"Faster," he pleaded. "Please, Dill."

"No. If anyone comes, they'll know what I'm doing. Slowly, slowly," she chided him.

McQueen began to move his hips, trying to thrust up into her, moaning as she ground down upon him. His hands reached to fondle her breasts. Desperate for her to ride him hard, he grabbed her and began lifting her up and down, his hands gripping her waist tightly.

Dill looked around again in fright. "Stop it, Ty! If someone finds us, they'll think that all that crap about sex-mad tanks is true!"

"So what," Ty moaned, his orgasm close now. "They think it anyway. Let's show them what a tank can really do." He began moving her faster, pulling her down onto him more forcefully.

"Oh God, Ty," Dill whimpered, as his cock rubbed mercilessly at her clit, forcing her to thrust down onto him as hard and fast as she could.

"Good girl," he groaned, slamming himself into her as she clung to his arms for support. "In fact, I think we'll finish this properly," he whispered, holding her tight as he rolled them over so that he was on top of her, and began to pump hard inside her.

Wrapping her legs around him, Dill allowed herself to succumb, not caring if anyone caught them. This was a honeymoon cruise after all. A matter of minutes later she came, her whole body shuddering as he continued his assault upon it, pounding into her so hard and fast that once her thoughts were again coherent she was convinced he'd break the recliner. With a last few thrusts he gasped loudly, burying his head in her neck as he came.

"Dill," he whispered. "I love you so much. Let's go back to our cabin and do it again."

"Control yourself," she giggled. "Or they really will think you're sex mad!"

"I really don't care what any of them thinks," Ty whispered, covering her throat and face with kisses.

"But I do," she sighed, as his kisses extended further down her body to her breasts.

"Already that Thelma hates you. I don't want this time together to be spoiled."

"Then you'd better not put on too many shows like that one!" a voice spat from close by. "But then, I guess what else can we expect from a filthy tank and its whore!"

Lifting his head, McQueen saw Thelma standing there. "You didn't have to stand there and watch. Getting your rocks off, were you? Why don't you go get Floyd to do the same to you?" He bent his head back to kiss Dill. "Come on, Dill. Let's go play some more."

Getting up, Ty slipped his shorts back up, hiding his semi-hard cock from view, and picked up Dill's bikini bottom. Holding out a hand to Dill, he turned to Thelma. "Wanna come and watch again, see what you're missing?" He winked at her as he pulled Dill away with him and back to their cabin.

"What the hell are you on?" Dill cried. "I can't believe you just said that! What if she'd said yes? Asked to join in?"

"She wouldn't. You know that," Ty grinned.

"Well, I would have said I'd never do what we just did," Dill told him as he pulled her through their cabin door.

"Blame Hilary,"he smirked. "She keeps telling me that I shouldn't be afraid of saying what I think. That after everything I've achieved, I deserve the right to speak my mind." McQueen pulled Dill to him, his hand reaching under her sarong to her behind. "She insists that my wife loves me, and isn't going to leave me if I say something she doesn't like."

"I've been telling you that for so long," Dill groaned as he kneaded her bottom. "Shame you never listened to me."

"I did, but for a long time I thought you were telling me what I wanted to hear. We've talked about this, Dill, when Izzy was born. But when Hilary said it to me," he shrugged, "I don't know, but I saw she was right. She pointed out to me all the things that show how much you love me... how committed you are to me. She shoved it right in my face and told me to open my eyes and smell the coffee." Ty paused, thinking. "Or it might have been roses."

"So the past three weeks talking about you and me and our relationship have been worthwhile then," Dill smiled. "Now then, mister, are we going to stand here all day or are we going to amuse ourselves some more?"

"Oh, I think we'll amuse ourselves, don't you?" Ty winked, pulling her sarong off as he pulled her to the bed.

Chuckling, she reached out to the bedside cabinet. "Come on, flyboy, get naked," she giggled. "I want to see what some of these things in this cupboard do!"

Slipping his swim shorts off, Ty stretched out on the bed. "What's your fancy?" he sniggered.

"Oh, I think Cock Rub," she giggled. "Seeing as how you look good and ready for it."

Taking the tub, Dill opened it and sniffed. "I hope you're not allergic to it," she said with a frown, "because I'm about to smear this up and down all over your lovely, hot cock!"

"Smear away," he groaned as she dipped her fingers in and then began to stroke him up and down. "Oh my," Ty sighed. "It tingles."

"Good tingles or bad tingles?" Dill asked, peering closely at his penis as she stroked him. "You're not going red or anything. Well, not more than usual anyway."

"Oh god!" he moaned. "Your breath... it makes it tingle more!"

"What, this?" Dill whispered, blowing softly across the tip of his twitching cock.

"Uh huh," he groaned, twisting under her hand.

"What about this?" she giggled, as her tongue very slowly licked up his length.

Ty couldn't even speak at that point - he just clutched at her and dragged her upwards, kissing her hungrily.

"I guess it feels pretty good then, does it?" Dill laughed when he'd released her.

"Oh yes,"he shivered, as she softly blew on him again. "Come here. I need to feel what it feels like inside you."

"Easily remedied," she chuckled, straddling him and slowly sliding down him, rising up as he bucked upwards to meet her.

"No Dill," Ty gasped. "I'm on top. I have to really feel this - it's so intense."

She laughed as he flipped them over, and wrapping his hands under her shoulders, thrust himself forcefully into her. He stopped for a moment to plunge his tongue into her mouth, hungrily searching for hers, sucking on it and tasting her to the full, before starting to pound into her. Slowly at first, matching his thrusts to those of his tongue, Ty finally settled for sucking at Dill's collarbone as he lost himself in the hard fast rhythm he'd set, spurred on by the intensity of feeling the rub had given him.

Dill clung to him as though her life depended on it, her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him in as close as she could. She trailed soft kisses along his shoulders and neck, nibbling on his ear as his head sank into her shoulder. She could hear Ty's soft groans as his body began to tremble, his orgasm approaching fast. He clung to her harder, his body mindlessly pumping into her with all his might, before with a final hard thrust he came, exploding inside her forcefully, filling her with his hot fluids.

Ty sank onto Dill, his chest heaving and his breath shallow. "We have got to buy some of that for using at home!" he whispered, as he rolled off her and moved down her body to lick her clean. Sucking and nibbling at her, he slid two fingers inside her, searching for just the right spot to get her bucking into his face. Once she was writhing under his ministrations, he slid his fingers out and replaced them with his tongue. Immediately her body began to buck as her hands pressed his face into her, grinding herself against him.

He worked her hard, determined to bring her to orgasm at least twice before he rested. Ty wanted her to know that he appreciated what she'd done out on the deck. He knew she hadn't really been comfortable with it, but had done it for him, for his pleasure. Just lately, he thought, she'd been concentrating on making him feel good and he'd not reciprocated. Now was his chance to rectify that.

Ty's hands began to softly stroke Dill's thighs, dancing up and down her legs as she shuddered underneath him, and he felt her come onto his face. Licking her clean, he kissed his way up her body, gently stroking and kissing her trembling limbs, until he reached her breasts. Ty smiled, seeing that she still wore her bikini top. Gently removing it, he began to lick her nipples, sucking on each one in turn, bringing them to hardened nubs before he began to nibble his way along her collarbone, licking and kissing along it and up her throat to her mouth. Softly he pressed his lips to hers, waiting until Dill opened her eyes and looked at him, before he gently pushed his tongue between her parted lips. He smiled as she sighed into his mouth, moaning at the feel of his hands stroking her skin, running up and down her hot flushed body, dancing lightly between her thighs, brushing against her hot core.

"No more," she pleaded, exhausted.

"Once more, my love," he whispered softly into her ear. "For you, once more."

"Inside me then," she sobbed, as his fingers began to stroke her clit.

"Roll over," he said, his voice hoarse with desire.

Dill rolled over and got up onto all fours, reaching behind her to massage his testicles as he knelt behind her, holding tightly to her hips. Ty slumped against her as she fondled him to hardness, his breathing shallow in her ear.

Pulling himself upright, Ty pushed her hand away and readied himself to slide inside her moist depths, before changing his mind and pulling away from her. Leaning to the side of the bed, he rummaged in the cabinet.

"Come on, flyboy," Dill whispered. "What are you waiting for, Christmas?"

"No," he whispered. "This."

She heard it before she felt it, cool and smooth. Ty slid a vibrator inside her and turned the speed up a notch. "Oh my," she groaned. "That wasn't in there earlier."

"I asked the steward for one," Ty whispered. "Feels good, doesn't it?" He slid himself up and down on her behind as he slid the vibrator in and out of her, speeding it up occasionally to make her push backwards onto it.

"Oh, yes," she moaned as he increased the speed. "I'm going to come!"

Removing the vibrator, Ty slid himself deep inside her and thrust home until she screamed with the intensity of her orgasm, collapsing onto the pillows of the bed, dragging him and his still hard cock with her. He fucked her as she lay flat on her stomach, hips bucking backwards to meet him, cries smothered by the pillow, as once again she climbed to another orgasm. This time her trembling body and clenching muscles dragged him along with her, and he fell exhausted onto her back.

They lay, he on her back, until they both began to snore softly and he rolled onto his back, an arm reaching for her in his sleep. Automatically her body responded, and she turned over and snuggled in his arms, one hand reaching to rest possessively on his softened penis. They slept, not noticing when the yacht dropped anchor, readying to prepare for dinner.

They were woken by the steward knocking at the door. "Dinner will be served in half an hour!" he called.

Ty rolled off the bed and went to the door. Standing behind it as he opened it, he peered around the edge. "Thanks," he yawned, as the steward grinned at him and left.

Closing the door, Ty stood and looked at Dill still asleep on the bed, her mouth moving as she mumbled in her sleep. He smiled; he'd been frightened that he was going to lose her just a few days ago. Her jealousy of Hilary he really hadn't understood until Hilary had explained it to him. But it had been the fact that she'd not wanted to make love with him, claiming night after night that she had a terrible headache, and finally resorting to pretending she had her period, that had really scared him. He walked to the bed to wake her up, gently stroking her back and kissing her shoulders. "Dill," he whispered. "You need to wake up. We need to shower before we go have dinner."

"Mmmmm...what are you doing? Surely you're not ready to go again? God, Ty, you're insatiable," Dill smiled, reaching out to stroke his face.

"No, no, my hot little elf," he smiled. "The steward just knocked. Dinner's almost ready. Come on, sleepyhead - we need to shower and get dressed." Ty lifted Dill in his arms, kissing her gently.

"Oh my," she giggled. "Am I glad I married a big, strong marine!"

Laughing, he carried her into the bathroom, stood her in the shower, and turning the water on, proceeded to wash her from top to toe before climbing in with her and letting her do the same for him.

They were late for dinner.

The chatter stopped as soon as they walked hand in hand into the dining room, all eyes instantly on them. From the way in which Emily, at least, coloured, McQueen knew that Thelma had wasted no time in filling the others in on what she'd seen.

Smiling at them, he sat down, Dill facing him across the table. "So, how is everyone this evening?" Ty asked. "What are we having for dinner? Does anyone know? I'm starved."

"From what we've heard, I'm hardly surprised," Valentine smiled at him.

"Been talking to Thelma here, have you?" Ty smiled back. "Did you do as I said, Thelma?" he asked her. "Did you get Floyd to show you a good time? Or do you just get your kicks from watching other people?"

"Ty!" Dill cried, unable to believe what she was hearing. "Stop it!"

"Oh, it's alright, Dill. After all, I'm just a filthy, sex-mad tank who doesn't know any better. That's right, isn't it, Floyd?" Ty asked, his blue eyes twinkling with delight at the shocked faces around the table. "What are you complaining for, Dill? It's not like I didn't show you a good time this afternoon." He winked.

Dill stared at him. "Stop it," she whispered.

"Oh, don't be like that," Ty sighed exaggeratedly, enjoying himself, not realising that he'd upset her. "After all, it's what everyone else here was thinking. Wasn't it?" He turned to glare at them all. "Shall I arrange a viewing so you can all watch next time? You could give me marks out of ten for style and technique!"

Dill stood up, tears in her eyes, and ran from the table, unable to cope with this side of him, horrified at the things he was saying.

"I think, TC, that you owe your wife an apology," Valentine told him, frowning. "And please don't judge us all by the actions of one foolish woman."

"Who are you calling foolish?" Floyd demanded. "I'll have you know that Thelma was most upset by what she witnessed this afternoon!"

"So upset that she couldn't wait to tell us all about it!" Valentine snapped at him. "In great detail and with much relish."

"I'm not sitting here to be insulted by you!" Thelma cried. "It's bad enough we're trapped here with this disgusting, depraved tank and his whore, without tank sympathisers too!"

"Come on Thelma," Floyd said, taking her arm. "We'll eat in our cabin tonight." They strode off angrily.

McQueen sat slumped in his chair. He really didn't know what had possessed him to say such things. And to make matters worse, Valentine was right. He owed Dill a huge apology. He hadn't meant to upset her. "Damn," he muttered.

"Regretting it already, are we?" Valentine asked. "What on earth possessed you?"

McQueen glared at him. "Just now, or this afternoon?"

"Now. You don't seem the type to be so confrontational. Few invitros are."

"The type?" McQueen sneered, still angry at himself for his words to Dill. "And just what would you know about me?"

"Well, I know you're Colonel TC McQueen, commanding officer of the 58th squadron, the Wildcards. I know you single-handedly took out that expert chig - they one they all called Chiggy von Richthofen. I know you're the last of the Angry Angels, and are usually seen in Angel black. Shall I go on?"

"How the hell do you know all that?" McQueen asked him, angry at what he saw as an invasion into his life.

"I checked you out on the net. Though I must say nowhere did it say you were married. Divorced, yes, but married, no," Valentine grinned at McQueen. "Though I guess if you just got married it'll take a while to update."

"We've been married two and a half years," McQueen told him resignedly. "They're slow updating. Bet they left the kids out too."

Valentines eyes lit up. "You have children?"

"We do." McQueen eyed him warily. "Two boys and a girl."

"In two years!" Emily exclaimed, blushing furiously. "Sorry," she whispered.

"The boys are twins," McQueen smiled. "And Dill has a thing for babies."

"For you, more likely, from what we heard!" Valentine chortled, flinching as his wife hit him on the arm. "Hey! I'm telling the man the truth."

"Dare I ask what she said," McQueen said wearily. Suddenly he no longer wanted food. All he could think about was that he'd upset Dill, and now he felt awful. He'd thought she would play along, but instead he'd made her cry.

"Oh, I think you can imagine," Valentine chuckled. "You know the sort of thing... 'And there she was, that whore of his, riding him for all the world to see, shameless hussy....' And then the inevitable... 'And afterwards he just tucked himself away like it was nothing, and insulted me..'. So what did you say to her?"

"I asked her if she'd enjoyed it, and told her to go get Floyd to give her some," McQueen grinned. "And then I asked if she wanted to come back with us to our cabin and watch some more."

"You didn't!" Valentine crowed. "Oh my - I can just see her face now, all pinched like she'd been sucking a lemon."

At that, McQueen laughed too. "It was kind of funny," he admitted. "I'd better go apologise to Dill," he said, standing up. "Maybe I can get her to come back and have some dinner."

"Please try. I'd like to meet her. Sorry, _we'd_ like to meet her," he smiled, as again his wife hit him. "Excuse Isabella, please. She has little hearing and has to read lips. She can talk but she's self conscious about it, so that's why she's not said a word since we arrived. I drive her to distraction sometimes, and why she agreed to marry me I'll never know. But I'm very glad that she did." He leaned across to kiss her. "Yes, I'm definitely delighted that she did."

With a smile, McQueen went to find Dill.

He found her up on the deck, sitting hunched up on a recliner, her arms wrapped around her knees, tears streaming down her face. She turned away from him as he sat down and reached out to her.

"I'm sorry Dill," Ty whispered. "I thought you'd realise I wasn't serious."

"Why did you say that?" she asked quietly, her voice muffled as she still sat huddled up.

"Why did you say that to me?"

"I'm sorry, Dill. Truly, I never meant to hurt you. And I thought you'd play along."

"Play along?" she whispered, rubbing at her eyes.

McQueen tried to hold her, but she pulled away. He sat back with a sigh. "I saw the way they looked at us... the way they stopped talking when we walked in, and hell, I don't know, I just suddenly thought fuck'em, fuck'em all. I'm sick and tired of keeping my mouth shut and turning the other cheek. I've worked hard to get where I am today. I've been to hell and back. Why should I have to keep quiet? How much longer before I'm shown the respect I deserve? How much harder do I have to work?"

"You're respected," Dill said quietly.

"No. Colonel McQueen, C.O. of the Wildcards, is respected. Hell yes. He's respected enough that the Chiefs of Staff ask his opinion and listen to it, because he knows his stuff. But me? Tyrus McQueen, tank? What respect do I get? None. Not a fucking bit. I get snide comments and nasty looks, and I'm sick to fucking death of it!"

She turned to look at him. "You have my respect. And the respect of my mother, the children, Glen, Rhonda, and the 58th. Or at least you had my respect."

"And I don't have it now?" Ty whispered.

"It's teetering on the edge," she told him. "How could you say that? How could you behave like that? How many times have you told me to let it go?"

"I don't know." He slumped back onto the recliner and stared up at the darkening sky. "The woman just annoys me. That damn self-righteous smirk, and that bloody husband who pretends he disagrees with her, but it's as plain as the nose on his fat, ugly face he doesn't!"

"Well, you have to be tolerant, Ty," Dill told him, coming to sit next to him.

"I'm sick of being tolerant," he told her quietly. "Why is it always us tanks that have to be tolerant? Why the hell can't someone else be for once?"

McQueen smiled as he felt Dill's hand slip into his. "Don't lower yourself to her level, Ty," she whispered. "You're so much better than that. That's why you've achieved so much. Because you are better. A hell of a lot better that a lot of natural borns."

"How is it that I came out here to grovel at your feet in apology, and beg you to come back and have some dinner, and you end up trying to make me feel better?" he chuckled, his heart pounding with relief as she finally let him hug her.

"Damned if I know," Dill smiled. "But a bit of grovelling wouldn't go amiss."

Ty slipped off the recliner and knelt at her feet. Reaching out, he took her hands in his. "Dylan McQueen," he grinned. "I love saying that. Dylan McQueen, this colonel begs to make atonement for the hideous crime he has committed against you. This colonel wishes you to know that he loves you, he worships you, and he idolises you. This colonel will do whatever you ask of him, up to and including giving his life for you and your children. This colonel begs to be able to hold you and kiss you and show you how sorry he is."

"But does the colonel really mean it?" Dill smiled, looking straight into his eyes. "Or is the colonel just saying what he thinks his wife wants to hear?"

"This colonel means every word," Ty whispered. "I swear that this colonel means it. Especially the part about wanting to kiss you." He leant forward, and taking her in his arms, softly touched his lips to hers. "This colonel believes he has never tasted anyone as good as you."

"The colonel tastes pretty fine to me too," she sighed, as he kissed her again.

"But has this colonel persuaded you to come back and have dinner with the others?"

"I think so," she smiled. "I think another kiss or four might help."

"It would give this colonel great pleasure to oblige," he laughed, folding her completely in his arms and covering her face with kisses, before standing and pulling her to her feet and leading her back to the dining room. "This colonel's stomach is growling. Come on before they eat it all."

Later that night they lay in bed watching a movie, Dill resting her head on Ty's bare chest, absently stroking his stomach while he ate popcorn.

"What the hell are we watching?" he asked. "Are there any films in that book that aren't more than 50 years old?"

"It's called 'Message in a Bottle', "she told him. "It's a really lovely film. Look,"she pointed at the screen on the wall in front of them, "he still loves his dead wife so much he's kept all her art things just as they were."

"That's creepy," Ty told her, shuddering. "I hope you don't do that to my stuff when I die!"

"You have the least amount of 'stuff' than anyone I have ever met," she chuckled. "Some books, your photos, and those lovely wall hangings you made. What else?"

"My one legged samurai," he told her, pretending to be affronted. "My bonsais!"

"Your medals."

"My 127th kit."

"Your ...." Dill hesitated, thinking.

"Picture of WC Fields," Ty prompted. "So okay, I guess it's not a lot, but don't you go getting creepy with it."

"Don't you go getting dead!" she chuckled. "We have babies waiting to be born."

"Oh god, more?" he groaned.

"Oh yes. At least another 4 or 5 I think, don't you?" she teased.

"Aren't the three we have more than enough trouble?" he grinned.

"Are you saying my babies are a bother?" Dill asked, tickling him.

"No, no bother. No bother at all!" Ty laughed, wriggling away from her. "Stop it and watch your movie!"

"How can I when my pillow keeps wriggling!" Dill giggled.

"Well, if you would just keep your hands to yourself, elf, I wouldn't need to wriggle, would I?"

"Well, if you don't want me to touch you..." Dill murmured, teasing him.

"Touch me! Touch me!" Ty chuckled.

"Where?" she whispered.

"Here," he said, his voice low and husky.

Dill looked up to see him with a finger on his lips. "As you wish," she smiled, kissing him.

"Here," his finger moved to his forehead. She kissed his forehead.

"Here." The finger moved to his chin, followed by her lips.

"Here." His finger moved to his chest.

Dill's mouth followed wherever his finger pointed - his nipples, his elbows, his stomach - finally working his way down to his groin, where throwing back the covers, she followed the trail of his finger down to the tip of his soft cock, nestling in the curls of his soft blonde hair.

As her kisses turned to licks, Ty sighed and pulled her away. "No, Dill, not tonight. Let's just enjoy this terrible movie and cuddle. Is that okay?"

She looked up at him. "Are you sure?"

He nodded. "I just need a cuddle tonight."

"But you led me down there," she smiled softly.

"I know, but I'm feeling a little... well, I guess I just want to be held by my wife. I want to know she loves me," Ty whispered.

"That's okay," Dill smiled. "We all need a cuddle sometimes. And I'd guess that after your performance before dinner, and the obviousness of those women salivating over you, you're feeling rather vulnerable. I do love you, Ty. I love you so much it hurts."

Dill scooted up the bed as Ty wriggled down and settled in her arms, his head resting against her breast. "Valentine and his wife seem very nice," Dill said, stroking his hair. "He's very funny. He made me laugh an awful lot, but she didn't say a word all night. She just smiled."

"She's deaf. She can speak, but her speech isn't good and she's self conscious about it." he said, nuzzling against her.

"And that Emily. 'Oh, TC, tell us about the war', and 'Oh that's so funny, TC'. She was flirting with you right under everyone's nose! What with her and that woman who was serving us whispering sweet nothings in your ear every five minutes, should I be jealous?" Dill teased. "Emily's husband is a weird one though. He kept staring at me the whole time."

"Now _that_ I noticed," Ty whispered, licking her breast, sucking her nipple into his mouth and sucking hard.

Dill moaned softly at the sensations he caused, her fingers stroking down his neck towards his navel, before his hand reached up to stop her.

"Why do you still have milk?" he asked. "Shouldn't it stop now you're not feeding?"

"Because, my lover, I am still feeding. In fact, my milk production has increased." At his confused look, Dill grinned. "I'm feeding you!"

"Sorry," he whispered, blushing.

"Don't be. I'll miss it when you leave."

Now feeling self conscious, Ty moved his head from her breast and rested it on her shoulder. "I wonder why Joseph was staring at you through dinner"

"Maybe he finds me irresistible and is wondering if you'd like to swap," Dill giggled gleefully. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Emily would fawn over you and hang on your every word."

"And what would you be doing?" Ty asked, his fingers gently stroking her breasts.

"Him!" Dill squeaked as he pinched a nipple.

"I'm keeping you forever. You promised. Is this film over yet? I'm tired." Ty settled himself to watch the rest of the movie, laughing when Dill tried to hide the fact that she was crying at the ending.

"You old softy, I know you're crying. Here, wipe your eyes," he grinned, getting up and fetching a box of tissues. Snuggling back into bed, this time he held her in his arms. "What am I going to do with you? "

"And who once laughed so loud he almost wet himself," Dill teased.

"I did not. I just happened to need a pee, that's all," Ty told her indignantly

"You ran for the bathroom!" she laughed.

"Well, it was funny," he smiled.

"And you'd seen it how many times? 20? 30?" Dill giggled. "And yet there you were, giggling like a girl!"

"I like W.C. Fields!" Ty protested.

"I know you do, my lover," she smiled. "That's why I hunted high and low to get you a copy of that film. And yes I know I didn't get them all, but you have a few to take back with you."

"Thank you Dill," he whispered. "That was a really thoughtful gift."

"It was my pleasure. I love seeing you get all excited about opening presents. I wish that just once we could spend Christmas together with the children."

"So do I. I've never had a proper Christmas. It wasn't bothered with in the mines; it was just a day we didn't have to work. And then the rest have been spent with the corps," Ty told her.

"What about when you were married?"

"Amy went to her parent. I wasn't invited, so I spent it in the Officers' Mess," he said matter of factly.

"That's awful! How could she do that to you?" Dill was horrified. "Even my mother wouldn't have done that."

"I guess we both knew our marriage was a disaster by then, so I didn't really care."

"All the more reason for you to put in for leave now. You must come home for Christmas with the children, Ty, while they're still little." Dill sighed. "You've missed so much of their childhood already, and to never be there for Christmas would be awful."

"I know," he yawned.

"Oh darling, if I had you home I'd show you a proper Christmas, with all the trimmings."

"One day," Ty sighed. "Something to look forward to." He wriggled himself around until once again he lay in her arms, his head resting on her breast. "Can we turn out the lights and go to sleep now, please?"

"Of course, my lover," Dill smiled, stroking his head once again. She reached for the lamp and switched it off, smiling at the way in which Ty immediately began to suckle on her, his mouth firmly clamped around her nipple.

A few days later Dill pottered about in their cabin. Ty had been enticed away by the promise of being taught to fish by a crewmember who'd seen him watching them as they caught the fish for lunch each day. Still naked from the shower, she was singing softly to herself when there was a tap at the door. Pulling on a robe, Dill opened the door to find Joseph standing there.

"Can I help you?" she smiled. "If you're looking for Ty, he's fishing off the pointy end, I believe."

"I came to see you," Joseph told her, pushing into the room.

"Oh," she whispered, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable, very aware that she wore nothing under the robe.

"I wanted to ask you something," he said, wandering around the room, picking things up to look briefly at them before putting them down again.

"I'm quite busy. Couldn't it have waited until lunch?" Dill asked, hugging the robe as close as she could.

"No, not really," he said, turning to face her. "Why did you marry a tank? Did he pay you to? Was he looking for an air of respectability?"

"I beg your pardon?" Dill asked, not quite believing what she was hearing.

"Did he pay you to marry him so that he'd be accepted in polite society?"

"No, he damn well did not!" Dill fumed. "I married him because I love him! Get out!"

"You love him? I find that strange. After all, how can you be sure that he's not simply using you? Everyone knows tanks don't have feelings like the rest of us. After all, they're not even human," he said in a cool, calm voice.

"Get out, and get out now!" Dill yelled at him. "How dare you come in here and say things like that! Get out before I throw you out!"

"A tiny thing like you? I don't think so," Joseph smiled nastily. "Did you get a cabinet full of toys too?" he asked, bending down to take a look. "I see that you did." He stood up, the handcuffs in his hand. "Shall we have a little fun? After all, if you'll do it with a tank you'll do it with anyone, surely?"

Dill stood rooted to the spot, unable to fully believe her own ears. She hadn't expected to find one of the worse kinds of bigots here - someone who quite obviously felt that invitro's were the lowest of the low, and therefore anyone who associated with them was also worthless. She only moved as he reached to grab her arm, snapping the cuff on one wrist. "No!" she cried. "There is no way in hell I'm doing anything with you!"

"That's okay," Joseph grinned. "I think I can manage all by myself." He reached for her other arm, but she pulled away, running for the door.

Grinning, he followed her. "Come on now, Dill. It is Dill he calls you, isn't it? Don't be like that. What's a little fun between friends?"

"Get off me!" Dill screamed as he grabbed her, and reached again to cuff her hands together.

"It's no good screaming. These cabins are sound proofed." Joseph smiled toothily at her horrified look. "You mean you didn't know? Been holding back, have you? Well, we can change that, can't we?"

All the while Dill had been struggling with him, desperately trying to get free enough to hit him, telling herself that, yes, he was bigger than her, but then so was Ty, and she'd knocked him off his feet. Finally she managed to wriggle under his arm, her robe falling open as she did so, and stepped back to take a swing at him.

"Oh, very nice," he smiled. "I can see why he likes you. So wholesome looking. Shame about the scar though."

Not caring about her robe, Dill swung for him. Joseph laughed and dodged her easily, but the knee she aimed at his groin found its mark. As he doubled over, her second punch took him squarely on the jaw, knocking him to his knees. Another foot to the groin and he was on his back, while she held him down with her foot.

"Get out of my cabin!" she growled at him. "keep away from me and my husband for the rest of this trip. And if you so much as speak to me again, I swear that next time I'll do a whole lot more damage!" After a final kick in the ribs, she opened the door. "Now out!"

Once he'd left, Dill sat on the edge of the bed and began to shake, her whole body shuddering. She climbed onto the bed, pulling her robe around her, and curled into a ball as she fought to keep herself from crying. Eventually the shakes subsided and she drifted off to sleep.

McQueen found her still curled up when he came back, full of childish delight at actually having caught a fish.

"Dill?" he called as he opened the door. "I caught a fish! Only one, mind you, and not very big, but a fish none the less. They said they'd cook it for me for lunch!" Ty was smiling broadly, feeling pleased with himself.

On seeing her curled up on the bed, he sat on the edge and gently stroked her back, leaning in to kiss the back of her neck. "Hey Dill, are you asleep?" he whispered.

"I was until some hulking great yob came stomping in here," she smiled at him, as she rolled onto her back.

"Sorry," he grinned. "But I caught a fish!"

"That's my clever boy," Dill smiled, reaching up to stroke his face.

Ty grabbed her hand, kissing the palm. "Why do you have the handcuffs on?" he asked, pushing the sleeve of her robe up.

"Ummm...." She thought for a moment. "I was seeing if they fitted?"

Ty reached for her other arm, and then rechecked both. "You have bruises on your arms, Dill. Where did you get them? They weren't there earlier, and I know I didn't do them. They're finger bruises."

"You must have done them," Dill told him, trying to get her arms away from him. "I need a shower."

McQueen watched as she found the key and undid the cuffs, before grinning at him and going into the bathroom. He knew she was lying to him. It was something she did so rarely that she was bad at it. Ty followed her into the bathroom, observing her as she showered. He could see other small bruises too, and realised she'd had a fight with someone. Judging by the cuffs, he could guess what it had been about. His anger grew as he watched her scrubbing herself ruthlessly, and he prayed that it hadn't got that far. The thought that it might have made his anger murderous.

"Who was it Dill?" he asked quietly, noticing that she jumped when he spoke.

"Who was what?" she tried.

"Don't do this," he told her. "You have bruises you didn't have earlier, you were wearing handcuffs on one wrist, and now you're scrubbing the flesh off your body. I recognise the signs, Dill, because I've been there. Did he rape you?"

"Rape me? What are you talking about? I told you - you made the bruises this morning. I tried the cuffs to see if they fitted..."

"And pigs just did a fly past!" he yelled, his anger now to the fore. "Tell me who did it!"

Dill stopped scrubbing and looked at him. "It doesn't matter, Ty. He didn't do anything, I swear. And I threw him out. Leave it, please."

"Leave it!" McQueen yelled, jumping up and grabbing her, holding her so close that she feared he'd suffocate her. "Some bastard assaults my wife and you want me to leave it? Tell me who it was."

"No, you'll do something stupid," she said, her voice low.

"I'll figure it out myself then," he told her, picking her up and carrying her into the bedroom, laying her down on the bed and tucking her up under the covers. "It wasn't Valentine - he was with me. I doubt it was Floyd, though it's possible. The steward? He's a weirdo."

"The steward?" Dill almost laughed. "I think he's more interested in you than he is me."

"That leaves Joseph, who's been staring at you for days." McQueen jumped up. "I'll kill him!"

"Ty, please?" she pleaded. "I swear he didn't rape me. If he had, I would have told you. He tried it on, I fought him off, and I don't think he'll be coming near us again. Please, Ty, leave it."

"I'm sorry, Dill, I can't," Ty fumed. "Any more than you could if the situation was reversed." He stood up and headed for the door.

"Ty!" Dill called after him.

He turned to look at her.

"Don't do anything - anything that might put your career at risk. I mean it!" she begged him, knowing that he'd do whatever he damn well pleased.

He simply stared at her, and turning, left the cabin.

McQueen found Joseph stretched out next to Emily on a recliner.

"You bastard!" he growled. "Stay away from my wife. If you so much as look at her, I swear I'll kill you!"

Joseph lowered his sunglasses. "Why would I want to go anywhere near your wife? I have a perfectly good one of my own," he smiled nastily.

"Because you're a stinking, slimy, lump of chig spooge who can't keep his hands off other people's wives!" McQueen yelled at him.

McQueen was delighted to see that Dill had given him one hell of a black eye. Way to go, Dill, he thought.

"Oh, for god's sake, don't be overly dramatic," Joseph sneered. "After all, a piece of trash like that can be bought anywhere. Why should here be any different?"

McQueen just stood and stared at him, looking from him to Emily, who hadn't moved a muscle. "You thought she'd want you?"

"My dear tank, open your eyes. Only one sort of woman goes with a tank - one who's desperate because no other man wants her. Don't let all that clap trap about love fool you."

McQueen lost his temper. Grabbing Joseph bodily, he dragged him out of the recliner and hurled him over the edge of the yacht, watching as he dropped into the sea.

"And if he tries it again, I'll weight him down!" he told Emily, before stomping off back to Dill. "And they say tanks are sexually depraved!" he muttered.


	9. 9

Promo 9.

For the last few days of their cruise McQueen refused to let Dill out of his sight, and Dill outright refused to have any meals in the dining room, so they stayed in their cabin. The only time they left it was for his daily lesson in the art of fishing. During these sessions Valentine joined them while Isabella topped up her tan. Dill was forced to stay and give encouragement. She didn't mind though - she loved watching Ty so obviously enjoying himself, and it gave her the opportunity to catch up with her reading.

"Remind me to book you some fly fishing lessons when we get home," she smiled as he stood studiously watching his fishing rod.

"Fly fishing?" Valentine asked.

"Best way to catch salmon," Dill told him.

"There are salmon in the loch?" McQueen asked over his shoulder.

"Oh, yes. Wild brown trout too. I'll ask our Ghillie, and he'll take you to the best places and make sure you really enjoy yourself," she smiled as his face lit up.

"What's a Ghillie?" Valentine asked.

"He's like a gamekeeper. He looks after the wildlife and organises the fishing on the estate. He takes the tourists out during the season, but he'd be delighted to take you out, Ty. He loves the boys, though Hamish always gives him grief by leaping into the loch whenever he takes them out with him. He's trying to persuade him that it frightens the fish, but you know Hamish - it's water. It's for swimming in," Dill laughed.

"He takes the boys out?" Ty asked, turning to look at her. "Why haven't I heard about him before?"

"I'm sure you have, Ty. Malcolm. You've must have heard me and mother discussing him?" she said, watching his face carefully. He'd gone very still and very quiet. "You're not jealous, are you?"

"No," he said too quickly.

"Yes, you are!" she cried. "You're jealous because Malcolm spends time with the boys when you're not there."

"No, I'm not!" Ty told her, turning back to his fishing rod.

"It sounds like it to me!" Valentine tittered. "I take it Hamish is one of your sons?"

"I am not jealous!" McQueen scowled.

"You are such a fibber!" Dill laughed, coming up behind him and hugging him, and slipping her hands under his tank top. "But you needn't be. The boys love you, not Malcolm. They know who their daddy is."

"Yes, Hamish is one of the little guys," McQueen told Valentine, whilst fending off Dill's wandering hands. "Dill, will you stop it? I'm trying to catch us lunch here!"

"You have three children, I believe you said," Valentine grinned, watching McQueen desperately fighting off Dill as her hands roamed over his body playfully. " You know, TC, you'd be better off ignoring her. You're only making it worse!"

"I daren't ignore her," McQueen laughed. "God knows where her hands would roam!"

"Oh, I know where they'd roam," Dill giggled, her hands slipping to his shorts as she winked playfully to Valentine.

"Dylan McQueen, I'm warning you!" he gasped, as her fingers brushed lightly over his cock. "Stop that. Stop it right now!"

Valentine sat laughing as he watched McQueen fighting to keep Dill's hands out of his shorts. Every time he got one hand secure the other would snake its way down his side to try again, and he would be struggling to grab at that hand too. The trouble was that both he and Dill were laughing so much that neither was really concentrating, and consequently neither was gaining control.

Eventually McQueen had hold of both her hands. "Control yourself woman!" he chuckled.

"People are watching!"

"People? "Valentine asked, looking around. "There's only me, and I'm having a whale of a time."

"Yeah, you would be," Ty chuckled. "Why don't you clear off and annoy that wife of yours?"

"Well, excuse me!" Valentine snorted. "Now I'm mortally offended. I shall take myself away and lick my wounds!" He got up from his seat and flounced off.

"Ty!" Dill cried. "That was uncalled for!"

"I was joking, and he knows it," he told her. "Now come and give me a hug." Ty pulled her to him and kissed her.

"I've been watching you two," Dill smiled. "You really like him, don't you?"

McQueen nodded. "I don't know why, but yes, I do. He makes me laugh."

"Something you definitely need to do more of," Dill sighed contentedly as he kissed her again. "Perhaps we should invite them to come and stay with us sometime."

Ty held her out at arm's length. "Do you know how much I love you?" he asked her.

"Yes, but tell me anyway," Dill giggled.

"I loves you this much," Ty said in a perfect imitation of Hamish, whilst holding his arms as wide as he could.

"And I loves you the whole wide world." Dill snuggled against his chest.

"Then I loves you the whole universe!" he chuckled.

"I loves you the...the...the whole huge everything including any other universes out there!" she giggled. "Beat that!"

"Damn you woman, you always have to have the last word!" Ty smiled, wrapping his arms around her.

"Are you two finished yet?" Valentine asked, reappearing around the corner. "I'm afraid my darling wife told me to clear off and leave her in peace. How romantic is that, I ask you?"

"She spoke?" Dill asked. "Blimey, she's not said a word the whole time we've been on this floating prison ship!"

"She signs," Valentine told her. "Her speech is a bit hard to understand until you get used to it, and she's not comfortable talking with people she doesn't know."

"Prison ship? You'd better not let your mother hear you call it that," Ty smiled, releasing Dill as she sat herself back down in her chair.

"Well, it is. Here we are supposedly having a second honeymoon, and it's been a disaster. Hell, our first non existent one was better!"" Dill griped. "And we're trapped with awful people, and no means of escape."

"And now your good lady wife mortally wounds me, too!" Valentine cried, clutching his chest. "Cast aside as if I don't count!"

"You've been the only bright spark of the whole trip," Dill smiled at him.

"Now I'm mortally wounded!" McQueen chuckled. "I can think of some times this week that have been damn fine!"

"Oh ho! You wouldn't be thinking of the show you put on for Thelma now, would you?" Valentine laughed. "From what she said it sounded like you enjoyed it, Dylan." He ducked to avoid the book she threw at him. "Ooh, careful, TC - you've got a tiger there! And from what I heard, Joseph found that out to his cost."

"How do you know about that?" Dill asked.

"It's a small yacht. The crew chatter, I listen," he told her. "They were well impressed that TC flung him overboard. Apparently he'd made a few moves on a couple of the female crew."

"The man is a slimy scumbag. And what does his wife do about it? Nothing!" McQueen growled. "Dill wouldn't put up with that from me, would you, Dill?"

"No, I damn well wouldn't," she said forcefully. "But then you wouldn't do it in the first place. You're not that sort of a man."

"Isabella would eat me alive if I did that," Valentine chuckled. "She's already warned me that I'm getting too familiar with Dylan here, and that it might be misconstrued. I think she's afraid I'll be the next one hurtling into the ocean."

"Oh, Ty saves that for the really creepy guys, don't you, Ty?" Dill smiled. "I don't think you're creepy at all. Just remember, though, don't try it on with me should you ever intend having kids one day. I've a vicious right knee!"

"Oh, I have no intention, I assure you," Valentine smiled, holding his hands up as if to protect himself. "Not that you're not quite delightful, but I have my hands full with Izzy."

"You call her Izzy?" McQueen grinned. "I've a dumpling at home called Izzy."

"I wish you wouldn't call her that Ty - she'll get a complex." Dill frowned at him.

"But she is. She's my chubby little dumpling," Ty grinned. "She's eight months old, Dill. How will she get a complex?"

"What if the boys start calling her it? Then it'll stick and she'll be Dumpling even if she grows up a skinny ribs like you!" she told him.

"Is she an Isabella too?" Valentine asked.

"Isobel," McQueen told him, laughing at the expression on Dill's face. "Isobel Laura McQueen. Eight months old and the producer of more spooge than you ever saw in your life, eater of bugs, and mini whirlwind."

"Ty, how can you say that about your own daughter!" Dill cried.

"Because it's true," he told her. "I swear the boys never produced so much spooge!"

"You weren't there for most of it," she smiled.

"Hey, I do my bit when I'm home!" Ty said indignantly.

"I can see it now," Valentine snorted. "The famous Colonel McQueen, the man who took on Chiggy Von Richthofen, defeated by a dirty diaper!"

"I was not defeated! I put her in the bath," McQueen told them haughtily.

"And she ended up with a bump the size of Everest!" Dill chuckled.

"I'm never going to live that down, am I?" he smiled.

"Nope, not never," she giggled.

"Will Isabella and I be like this after we've been married a long time?" Valentine asked them.

They both stood and stared at him. McQueen started to laugh and Dill shook her head.

"We've only been married two years last May," she said.

"Oh yes, so you said," Valentine grinned. "I forgot. Watching the two of you, it's like watching those two old guys in those old movies - you know, the fat one and the thin one."

Dill prodded McQueen. "Come on - you're the expert on those old black and white films. You just better hope I'm not the fat one!" she aimed at Valentine.

"Hey, I never claimed to be an expert!" McQueen told her. "But two guys... one fat, one thin... let me think." He sat down and pulled Dill onto his lap, while he thought about it. "There's two sets of guys like that I can think of," he finally announced. "Laurel and Hardy, in which case you're the bossy fat guy, Dill, and I'm the poor innocent stooge who does as he's told, or Abbott and Costello, in which case I'm the poor fat stooge who does as he's told, and you're the skinny miserable one."

Both men burst out laughing at the expression on her face. "So I get to choose between bossy and fat or skinny and miserable!"

Valentine buried his face in his hands. "I am so sorry I mentioned it!" he laughed. "But come on - you have three kids, you said. So far we've got Isobel and Hamish. Who's the third?"

"That'd be Cameron, the worrier. Hamish is a good head taller and a lot more co-ordinated - a real tough little boy," McQueen told him proudly.

"Whereas Cameron is the brains of the pair. His speech is much more advanced and he's the most like Ty emotionally. Hamish looks like him more than Cameron does, but really they both do - white blonde hair, big blue eyes and the patented McQueen glare!" Dill said, stroking Ty's hair.

"I'll bet you were surprised to find you were having twins," Valentine said.

"I was surprised to find I was pregnant!" Dill exclaimed. "Someone who shall remain nameless told me..." She trailed off, realising that Ty really wouldn't want his personal life revealed to all and sundry.

"It's okay," he smiled at her, before turning to Valentine. "What my charmingly tactful wife was about to say was that I thought I couldn't have children. I was injured during the AI wars and told I'd never be a father, so it came as a shock to both of us to find that Dill was pregnant."

"But a nice shock surely?" Valentine smiled.

"Eventually," they said together, before bursting into laughter.

"You have no idea," McQueen chuckled. "Let's just say that there was some friction."

"I can imagine why, especially if you thought you couldn't have children," Valentine frowned. "That must have been pretty rough."

Before either of them could speak, they were interrupted by a crewmember,

"Mr. and Mrs. McQueen, Mr. Bertorelli, lunch will be served in approximately half an hour. Mr. McQueen, do you want it in your cabin again, or shall I fix you a table up here on the deck somewhere?"

"Oh, up here would be lovely. Perhaps you could set it for four!" Dill cried. "And then you could join us, Valentine. You and Isabella."

"Of course, ma'am," the crewman smiled, heading off to procure a table.

The four of them - Dill, Ty, Valentine and Isabella - enjoyed a delicious lunch with much hilarity, making their final day a good one. After lunch Dill extended an invitation to the Bertorelli's to visit them in Scotland during Ty's next leave.

"Of course we don't actually know when his next leave will be. I'm trying to get him to put in for leave now for Christmas, but as he won't get back to the 'Toga until... when?" she asked him.

"November, if I'm lucky," he sighed heavily.

"Well, you won't get leave at Christmas then," Dill groaned. "Never mind, one day. So probably next spring then. Perhaps you can try for the boys' birthday in May."

"I'll try," Ty smiled. "I want my day out with the Ghillie. If you two manage to come visit, we can go together, Valentine."

"And return victorious, laden with salmon and trout!" Valentine laughed. "What a way to spend a day - defeating our watery enemies and bringing them home for the womenfolk to cook!"

"Sorry," Dill grinned at Isabella. "They seem to have become addicted to fishing."

Isabella smiled back, nodding.

As Ty and Dill left the boat they were surprised to see Moira and the children waiting for them. Hamish and Cameron ran to McQueen, wrapping themselves around his legs and clammering to be picked up. Isobel sat placidly in her buggy until Dill unstrapped her and picked her up. Turning with Isobel in her arms, she saw that Ty'd picked up both boys and they were covering his face with wet, sloppy kisses.

"Ty, you shouldn't pick them both up. You still need your cane," she told him.

"How can I not pick up my boys?" he asked her, returning their kisses. "Especially when I've missed them both so much."

"Missed us, daddy?" Hamish asked, another wet kiss finding its mark.

"Oh, yes. So much, I had to cuddle mommy all the time," Ty told both boys seriously. "But mommy doesn't give lovely cuddles like you two do."

"Did you miss Izzy, daddy?" Cameron asked. "And Cashus?"

"Yes, I missed them too. I missed all you guys,"he winked at Dill. "Even Gamma!"

"Well, TC, I must say Dylan was right - they are both the living image of you. What a pair of cuties!" Valentine smiled, coming up to them. "And so cuddly too!" He looked around, seeing Isobel in Dill's arms. "And here's your Dumpling. You know, TC, you are a very lucky man - luckier than you realise."

Val turned as Isabella pulled on his arm; their car was waiting for them. "Have to go now - Izzy's waiting." He turned and kissed Dill on the cheek. "Take care now, and I promise we'll be in touch. I'm damned if I'm going to miss out on fishing with a Ghillie!" With a wave, he climbed into the waiting car and was driven away.

"Who's that Daddy?" Hamish asked, looking sternly in the direction of the vanishing car.

"Kissed mummy!"

"That's okay, little guy. That's daddy's friend Valentine," McQueen told him.

"Daddy's friend?"

"Yes, my man, daddy's friend," McQueen told him firmly.

Dill smiled at the exchange. She knew that Ty didn't have that many people he called friends, but she suspected this friendship would last if she nurtured it properly. She turned to her mother.

"Mother, why are you and the children here? You should have been home for days."

"I found the house," Moira smiled. "We're taking you to view it, and if you like it, the paperwork is ready to sign. The house will be yours. We had to stay on so that I could push the agents as hard and fast as possible. It's perfect, Dylan, it really is. It has a pool as TC requested, a lovely garden with access to the riverfront, a huge family kitchen, an office for TC, and best of all, a wrap around porch."

"It does sound perfect," Dill admitted. "But you really should have got Hamish away from Aerotech, mother."

"Don't be so ungrateful, Dill," McQueen chided her gently. "Thank you, Moira. I'm sure it'll be just fine. Let's go see it, shall we?" He put the boys down and headed towards the car.

The rest of the family followed, Dill and Moira carrying the luggage.

Pulling up in front of the house, both Dill and McQueen were impressed.

"Can we afford this, Mother?" Dill asked hopefully.

"Yes," Moira told her in a 'don't argue about it' voice.

Getting out, they were met by a young man. "Hello,"he smiled. "I'm here as Ms. Wilkinson's replacement, as you asked." He held out his hand.

McQueen's eyebrows raised, but he said nothing. After all, Amy lived in Pennsylvania now. He knew that.

They followed the man around the house, Moira having stayed with the children in the garden. Dill clung to McQueen's hand, fairly bouncing with excitement as she looked around.

"This is perfect, Ty," she whispered. "Just perfect. I really love this house."

He squeezed her hand. "It's a lovely house, and I like the way the pool house roof rolls back to let in the natural sunlight."

By the time they'd finished seeing the house it was a done deal. Both of them liked it, and they were ready to sign the paperwork.

Moira and the children joined them as they sat at a table in the garden discussing the various papers that need signing.

McQueen looked up from one sheet. "This says the agent is Amy Wilkinson?" he asked.

"That's right. She did the original deal, but your mother in law requested that she not be in on the final sale," he was told.

"It can't be the same one, Ty, surely?" Dill asked tentatively.

"Well, she was around here when we came to visit Rhonda," he told her, remembering the disagreement that had occurred.

"You said she lived in Pennsylvania," Dill reminded him.

"That's right," the young man piped up. "The company transferred her back here when they needed someone who knew the area."

McQueen paled. "We can't live in this house," he whispered.

"That bad lady hurt my daddy," Cameron told the man conversationally. "Cashus knew."

"What do you mean we can't buy this house?" Dill asked, though she already knew the answer.

"She said we were brats, and mummy was a tiny mouse, and that Cashus was dirty and smelly," Cameron spoke into a stunned silence. "_And_ she said Hamish told lies!" he added indignantly.

"I'm sorry, Dill, but we're definitely not buying this house," McQueen growled. "She insults my children and my wife, and there's no way in hell I'm living anywhere near where she might be living." He got up, ready to leave.

"McQueens don't tell lies!" Hamish announced.

Moira was about to speak but Dill shushed her. "No, mother. If Ty says no, then that's it. It's a shame, but we'll work something out." She looked at her husband as he stood there, pale and trembling slightly. "Come on then - let's go pack the rest of our stuff and take our babies home." She got up, and taking his hand, led him from the house.

Moira looked at the agent. "Well, it looks like your Ms. Wilkinson just lost herself a sale." She turned to the boys. "Come on boys, let's go home," and with Isobel in her arms, followed after Dill and Ty.

When they got home there was a message on the machine waiting for them, from the real estate agents. McQueen refused even to acknowledge it, taking himself off to their bedroom and slamming the door behind him. Moira checked it, frowning as she realised that they were desperately trying to persuade them to buy the house.

"I think they really want to sell you that place, Dylan. Just think what a coup it would be for their company - the famous Colonel McQueen, buying a house from them!" She shook her head. "Go talk to him, see what he says."

Dill looked at Moira and heaved a great sigh. Turning to the boys, she crouched down to speak to them. "I know you guys have missed daddy so much, but right now he needs for you to let him be for a while. Don't go up and disturb him, okay? When he's feeling better he'll come down and see you. Is that okay?"

"Daddy sad?" Hamish asked, staring wistfully up the stairs.

"Yes, darling, daddy's sad." Dill hugged him.

"Are you going to make him happy mummy?" Cameron asked.

"I'll try," she smiled at him.

"Will you suck his penis? That makes him happy. You said it does."

Dill hung her head, trying not to laugh. "Maybe, Cameron," she smiled. "Maybe. Now you boys go and play and I'll take daddy a nice cup of tea."

"Okay mummy!" both boys said, heading out to the garden.

Moira grinned at her. "You are never going to be allowed to forget that. Anytime TC says he feels sad, Cameron is going to say it!"

"Maybe it's not such a bad idea," Dill smiled. "At least he'd relax, and maybe even talk to me."

Moira shook her head, laughing. "Dylan McQueen, you take the cake. You really do!"

"Mother, I learned how to be manipulative from the best!" Dill grinned back and made for the stairs.

Opening the door, she saw him curled up on the bed. "Ty?" she whispered.

"Go away," he said quietly.

"No, baby, I won't," she told him, going to sit on the bed, her hand reaching to stroke his back.

"We're not buying that house," Ty said.

"Do you hear me arguing about it?" Dill said softly, leaning to kiss his cheek. "But I'd appreciate it if you'd tell me why. I think I deserve to know that."

"If we buy that house, she'll know where we live... where I live. I thought I was free of her, but I won't be. I'll be trapped again," he whispered.

"Trapped?"

"She'll know where I am. What if she turns up when you and the kids aren't here? When I'm alone?" he rolled onto his back and clutched at her hand, "I love you Dill. I can't deal with Amy too."

"Oh sweetie,"she stroked his forehead. "You loved Amy once. Are you frightened that she might want you to love her again?"

He nodded, and she could see the fear in his eyes.

"She hurt you badly, didn't she?" Again he nodded. "And now you think that because she knows you can have kids, she'll want to try again. Is that a close enough guess?"

"Yes," Ty whispered.

"And you're afraid, why? That you'll fall for her and leave me and the children? That you'll be tempted? That you'll sleep with her thinking I won't find out? That she'll persuade you to cheat on me?"

He just lay and looked at her, tears glistening in his eyes.

"Ty, you are stronger than that. You're not the doormat she married anymore. I trust you. You've told me that you want only me, and I believe you. You told me that you'd never do anything to hurt me or the children. I know you wouldn't. You asked if you could keep me forever, and I said yes. You married me. I know you'd never get into bed with Amy, but you obviously don't."

"I wouldn't," he whispered.

"Then why are we having this conversation?" Dill asked him, stroking his face. "It doesn't really matter, does it, whether Amy knows where we live. You're scared of the effect she has on you. Does she turn you on, Ty? Last time you saw her did you want her?"

"No," Ty cried, turning his head away. "I don't want her! I want her to leave me alone! I jumped through enough hoops for her, and all it got me was a divorce! She'll do it again, only this time it'll be you divorcing me, taking my kids away, and I'm scared. I don't want to lose you." He turned back to face her, letting her see the tears falling. "I don't want to lose you, Dill."

Dill hugged him, stroking his hair, soothing him. "You won't lose me baby, I promise. Amy won't break this family up. We love you too much to let you go. We need you, me and the children. And even mother, in her own way. We're a family, and Amy can't spoil that."

"What if she tries?" he whispered.

"Then you tell her no, just like you told that woman on the boat. You tell her to leave you alone, that you're not interested. If she persists, you come on home to Scotland, to where I'll be waiting with open arms and a warm bed. Or you go to the 'Toga, where Glen will be pleased to see you, even if he doesn't offer you a warm bed!" she smiled. "But this isn't now, Ty. This house is for after the war, and then I'll bring the kids and we'll live here, if you want. You'll come home everyday to your family. You'll sleep every night in the same bed as me, and every morning you'll see those three smiling faces at the breakfast table - those faces full of love for their daddy."

"I will?" Ty whispered.

"Yes, you will. And who knows, by then there might be four faces at the table. Or five!" she teased.

"Good job it's a big house then," he smiled tentatively.

"When is your next appointment with Hilary?"

"Why?"

"I think you two need to talk about Amy, to work out how you really feel about her," Dill told him. "You need to exorcise her."

"The day after tomorrow. It's supposed to be on the net, but I'll phone and let her know I'm still here," Ty said.

"Good boy. Now go wash your face and come see the children. Be warned - Cameron is convinced I've come up here to suck you off and make you happy, so he may well ask you if you're happy now."

"And have you?" he asked, wiping his face on his sleeve.

"Have I what? Come to give you a seeing to?"Dill grinned. "Do you want me to?"

Ty shook his head. "No, not really. I think I'm still too shook up from finding out that it was Amy. Later."

"Come on then – let's get you all washed up and we'll go see our babies." Dill stood up, and pulling him up from the bed, watched as Ty washed his face, before took him back downstairs to where the children were waiting for him.


	10. 10

Promo 10.

Dill pulled up outside Hilary's apartment block, giving Ty a quick kiss as he climbed out of the car. He turned and looked as he heard his name being called.

"Wait Dill," he told her, before walking over to Hilary, who stood at the top of the steps.

Dill watched her husband talking to Hilary. He shook his head while Hilary nodded furiously. They both looked over at Dill, who waved at them. Ty spoke again to Hilary and shook his head, a peeved look on his face as he came back to the car.

"What's up, my lover?" Dill asked. "She can't do the session?"

"She can do it alright, but she wants you to be there. She wants us to talk about how we both feel regarding Amy."

"Me? I know how I feel about Amy," Dill grimaced.

"So you won't do it then? That's what I told her," Ty said. "But she's insisting."

"Let me park the car and I'll be right there," she groaned. "But I don't know that I'll be of any help."

"Okay," Ty grumbled, turning away.

"Ty!" Dill called.

"Yes?" He'd turned back.

"You don't want me there, do you?"

"No, not really," he admitted.

"Then tell her."

"I did. She said I'll get over it!"

Dill laughed at the way he shook his head as he walked away.

Dill parked the car and joined them in Hilary's apartment. Looking around, she could see why Ty had thought Hilary flaky. There were crystals everywhere. The place looked like she'd Feng Shuied it, and there was a distinct aroma of incense.

"Hello, Dylan." Hilary held out her hand. "Thank you for joining us. I think that for this session, at least, we need the both of you here. If we're going to be rid of the shadow of T.C.'s first wife, then his second wife most definitely needs to be here." She looked long and hard at Dill. "I'll bet you feel sometimes as though you live in her shadow?"

"Once or twice," Dill admitted.

"Come on then," Hilary said briskly. "T.C. in your usual chair, please. Dylan, sit here. If you don't look at each other, this might be easier on both of you, but please say if you'd rather be able to touch."

"I'd like to. Sometimes he needs to be touched," Dill told her.

"Are you comfortable with that, T.C.?"

"I guess," he mumbled.

"You're not happy about this, are you?" Hilary smiled. "Believe me, this is when you can both say how you feel about Amy, openly and honestly. T.C., you'll feel better for it."

"Well, I always say how I feel about Amy, openly and honestly," Dill said, sitting down where Hilary indicated. "But Ty is still getting used to the idea of opening up. He's done so well since we first met, but it's so hard for him. He's got used to depending only on himself, and of course he keeps it all locked away tighter than a nun's..." She trailed off as both McQueen and Hilary stared at her. "Sorry."

"Don't be. I can see you know him much better than he realises," Hilary told her. "That's very good."

McQueen could see Dill starting to bristle. He reached out a hand to stroke her arm. "Dill," he whispered.

Hilary watched them - the way Dill glanced at him, took a deep breath and relaxed again. "I'd say he knows you pretty well, too."

"After five years, I should hope so!" Dill exclaimed, feeling rather condescended to by this woman.

Hilary raised an eyebrow and sat down. "So Dylan, tell me about Amy."

"Amy? Well, where do I start? She married Ty, treated him like shit, and divorced him when he couldn't give her children. She said she knew what it would be like to be married to an invitro and she could cope with it. Well, she walked away when the going got tough."

"Which you wouldn't do?" Hilary prompted.

"No, I wouldn't. I love Ty, baggage and all. I deal with it when it happens, and we talk it over, and move on. I married him because I love him, and I made that commitment for life. I won't walk away from it. I'll work at it. Amy didn't. She gets no respect from me!"

"You deal with it? Does T.C.?"

"I thought he did, but he wasn't. That's why I persuaded him to come and see you. I'm hoping you can help him." Dill looked at Hilary squarely. "You have helped him. Thank you."

"But how do you feel about Amy?"

Dill decided that she was going to tell Hilary, and therefore Ty, exactly how she felt. He needed to hear this. "I hate her. I never thought I could hate anyone, but I hate Amy. I hate her for what she did to Ty. She used him, and she never once thought about him... about why he was the way he was. I've always tried not to comment on his first marriage, but from what he's said, and from what others have said, those that knew him then, I am so glad I punched her in the face. And I'd do it again, given half a chance!"

"Dill!" Ty said sternly.

"No, T.C., let her speak. You need to hear this. No doubt you've heard it before, but this time listen," Hilary told him.

"When they got married he was still a child. He might have had the body of a grown man, but he was a child emotionally. She must have known that. Hell, I worked that out pretty damn fast and he was twenty when we met. And don't give me the...'well, she was young, too' crap. I'd never even heard of invitros when we met, but I did this little thing called research. It sure opened my eyes. It made me see why he was having these terrible nightmares. I'd fallen hopelessly in love with an abused child, because that's what he was. Do you know what she told my mother?" Dill was almost puce in her indignation. "And Ty has never mentioned this, not once. She told her that after the first nightmare he had, she refused to let him back in her bed. She refused to allow her husband to abuse her! Did she never see that what he needed was affirmation of her love for him? Reassurance that it was okay, that she understood. Did she never just comfort him?"

"T.C.?" Hilary asked quietly.

He shook his head. "No,"he whispered. "She told me that if I thought I was ever hitting her again, I had another think coming."

"Did you even know you'd hit her, Ty?" Dill asked softly.

"No," he whispered.

"See, that's what I mean. The bitch just didn't give a damn!" Dill growled. "After he was a POW the doctors told him he'd never father children. I'd guess the nightmares were worse then. Hell, it was nightmares about that that sent him to you. You know what she said about having kids? She wanted children but she wasn't prepared to go through the necessary procedures." Dill shook her head. "She just wanted out. It was a pitiful excuse. At a time when he needed her, he needed to know she cared and that it didn't matter about not being able to have kids. When he was probably at his lowest, she dumped him. It's not surprising he got himself hooked on meanies again. He told me that he couldn't have kids fairly early on in our relationship, when we realised it was more than a casual fling."

"When I came to stay the first time," he whispered.

"That's right," Dill nodded. "Amy battered his self confidence into the ground, and I'm still picking up the pieces. I resent her for that. I've struggled so hard at times to get through to him, because I love him. I think he's worth fighting for. To make him see that, and believe it, has been incredibly hard. Especially before the boys were born. We were still dealing with trust when Izzy was born." She glanced across at Ty, unsure whether to say what she wanted to say.

"Go on," Hilary said quietly.

"We had a major trust issue at the time of the boys' birth. We sorted it out, but... well, he was so obviously insecure. Worried that I'd love the boys more than him. Hell, he reminded me of the kids I worked with. He was so proud and full of himself at having been part of making these babies. Obviously totally in love with them, but petrified that maybe now I'd drop him. I'd got my babies from him and wouldn't need him anymore. That was when I first started breastfeeding him."

Dill glanced quickly at Ty. He sat, his head in his hands, his face crimson. Reaching out, she stroked his head, making him look up.

"You never said a word, Ty, but I knew. I saw the fear in your eyes. I knew you loved me, and were proud of me, but I needed to let you know I still loved you. When you're stressed or upset, you feed. For the first few nights whenever you have leave, you always go to sleep feeding from me. Of course now that I'm no longer feeding Izzy, I'll have no milk left for your next leave. But it's not about the milk. It's turned into a perfectly Freudian comfort thing. Except, of course, you never had a mother. Until now. I'm well aware that I've filled that role. I'm lover, wife and mother, but that's fine. There are times when you need to be taken in hand and looked after... told what to do. A bossy boots like me is in heaven."

"But you know when I need you to be like that, Dill, and when I need to be in charge. I don't know how you know it, but I love you for it," Ty said softly.

"I know you do, darling. I've spent five years watching you slowly emerging from your shell. You slip back inside sometimes, but with careful cajoling I've always managed to get you out again." Dill turned to look at Hilary. "That's why I hate Amy. If she'd loved him, she would have persevered, not turned her back on him. She caused him so much pain I can hardly bear to think about it. He's mine, and no one hurts my babies and gets away with it."

"You look on him as your baby?"

"Sometimes. When he's stressed and vulnerable and needs comforting, he responds to it. Not all the time obviously. I mean, after all, he's a grown man, and most of the time he's a very loving husband, and a fantastic father to the children. And it'd be difficult to look on him as a baby when we're making love," Dill said defensively.

Hilary stared at her for a long moment. "Do you feel he compares you to Amy?"

"He did," Dill nodded. "I'm not sure that he does now. I resented it. He was expecting me to react the way she did, and behaving as though I would. I don't think he does that so much any more. I think he's more secure with me now. He knows I'm not just going to up and leave him on a whim." She reached over to Ty, squeezing his arm. "Or at least I hope he knows that."

"I know it." Ty smiled at her.

Hilary turned to him. "We've heard how Dylan feels. What about you, T.C.?. Tell us how you feel about Amy. Do you still love her?"

"............No," came his mumbled response.

"Are you sure? You sounded rather hesitant," Hilary asked.

"I'm sure. I love Dill."

"But do you also still love Amy?"

"No, I definitely don't love Amy!" he exclaimed, mortified at being asked this in front of Dill.

"How can you be so sure? You loved her once," Hilary persisted.

"Did I? I'm not so sure about that any more."

"Why?"

"I never felt about Amy the way I feel about Dill."

Sitting watching him, Dill saw the brief smile Ty gave her. She reached to squeeze his hand.

"How is that?" Hilary pushed, having noticed both the smile and the squeeze.

"I'd give my life for Dill in a heartbeat, without thinking about it."

"Surely you felt like that about Amy once?"

"Maybe," he admitted.

"So how is it different this time?"

"I feel for Dill in a way I never felt for Amy, not once. Not even in the beginning."

"Is it perhaps because Dylan gave you the children you'd longed for?"

"No, I felt this way before she became pregnant. I asked her to marry me before she found out about the boys. I just knew I didn't want to lose her."

"You never felt that way with Amy?"

"I guess I must have done once. I mean, I married her. But that was her idea, not mine. She talked me into it. Marrying Dill was my idea... something I knew I needed to do."

"You needed to do?"

"Yes, I need Dill. She fills a hole in me... she makes me into a man I like. I like who I am when I'm with her. Even the 58th say I've changed for the better since I met Dill."

"Is that because of her, or are you sure you hadn't already begun to change because of your affection for the 58th?"

"Dill. It's Dill. I don't relax as much with the 58th. When I'm with Dill... well, I can be me. I can admit I'm scared or frightened. I can be vulnerable and know she won't laugh at me or sneer. She takes care of me. I can't be like that with the 58th. I'm their CO."

"But you're still a man, T.C."

"No I'm not. When I'm with them, I'm a marine."

"So Dill takes care of you. Do you like that? Or do you resent it?"

"I like it. Amy never took care of me. She wanted a strong man with no signs of weakness. Dill, on the other hand, worries when I hold things in. She tells me that it's okay to be scared... that she'll love me anyway, and that we'll face my demons together." He looked directly at Hilary. "We've faced a lot of demons, me and Dill. I couldn't have done it without her. And Amy wouldn't have done it at all. No, I don't still love Amy."

"The house, T.C. Tell me about why you don't want to buy the house."

"I'm afraid," he whispered.

"Of what?"

"That she'll turn up on the doorstep, wanting us to get back together, now that she knows I can father children normally."

"Why would she do that?"

"I don't know, but what if she did? What if she turned me back into her lapdog and I did it! I don't want to lose Dill and the children! I couldn't bear to lose them! I don't want her anywhere near me!" he cried, burying his face in his hands.

Dill was on her knees at his side. "Shush, its okay baby," she soothed, holding him, stroking his hair. "I won't let her hurt you again."

His arms crept around her. "Dill," Ty whispered. "I love you so much. Please don't make me live in that house."

"I won't darling. We'll look for something somewhere else." She continued to stroke his hair until she felt his arms releasing her, then with a kiss to his forehead she sat back down and stared at Hilary. "See? What's the betting Amy never did that?"

"Amy has blighted our life," Ty sniffed. "I want it to stop, but I don't want to speak to Amy. Not again. I tried to be nice to her, but she hit me and Dill hit her. It was traumatic for all of us. I can't do that again."

"Are you worried that you're not strong enough?" Hilary asked.

"Yes," Ty said very softly. "I wasn't strong enough to stand up to her before, when she sent me the divorce papers. I signed them and sent them back without question. It hurt me, but I did it. She didn't want a stupid tank after all. I kept wondering what I'd done wrong. Everything she asked of me, I did. The only thing I couldn't do was give her children naturally. But now I know nothing would ever have been good enough for her. She pushed me into doing things to 'advance my career'. We'd have dinner with people who could put in a good word for the 'poor tank'. I was forced into situations I hated and didn't know how to deal with. But I kept my mouth shut and did as I was told, because if I didn't ..." He stopped, embarrassed to say it.

"If you didn't?" Hilary prompted.

With a quick glance at Dill, Ty hurried on, rushing to spit the words out quickly. "If I didn't she wouldn't let me sleep with her. And I needed to. It was the only time I felt that she ever wanted me... that I was allowed to touch her or be touched by her. It wasn't until I met Dill that I discovered the difference between sex and making love. Dill works to make me feel good. She enjoys giving me pleasure. Amy just wanted me to make her feel good, and if I were successful, I'd get to actually fuck her. It wasn't more than about two months into our marriage that the reality of it hit us both. I realised that she'd thought she was marrying a hotshot pilot and what she got was an emotional wreck. And I guess she realised that she couldn't cope with my moods and nightmares." His voice sank lower and lower as he spoke. "She used sex to control me, to get me to do whatever she wanted. Dill doesn't do that to me. Dill doesn't try to control me at all."

"Are you sure?"

"She's bossy, yes, but not controlling. Not like Amy was. Dill never asks me for more than I can give, and never withholds her affections if I don't come up to scratch. She loves me, warts and all." Ty smiled shyly at Dill. "I love you Dill. Even when you got jealous, I still knew you loved me, and that it was you withdrawing, not you punishing me."

"Think about it, T.C.," Hilary said. "You love Dylan, and you don't love Amy. That we've established. Amy controlled you and punished you using sex. Dylan doesn't. Amy walked away when she found you couldn't father children. Dylan accepted you knowing that. Amy wasn't prepared, or perhaps was unable, to help you with your nightmares. Dylan wants to help you ... has indeed taken the first steps to ensuring you get the help you need. Amy made you feel worthless. She shattered your confidence. Dylan makes you feel good about yourself, and she boosts your confidence." She smiled as he nodded at each point. "So tell me this, why do you think that if Amy calls, you'll go running back to her?"

"I don't know," Ty whispered. "I don't have to, do I?"

"You tell us - do you?"

"No, I don't. I'm married to Dill now. We have a family, and I'm not the man I was when I married Amy. Things have changed in my life, for the better. She has no control over me any more. I'm stronger than I was, and that's thanks to the 58th and to Dill. I'm a different man - happy, confident. I know my place in the world. I'm a Marine Corps colonel, CO of the 58th, husband to Dill, father to three great kids and maybe more one day. When this war is over I'm even thinking about retiring to spend more time with my family." He grinned at Dill's sharp intake of breath. "It's true, Dill. I'm fed up with being away from you and the children all the time. My priorities have changed. I want to be at home with you guys, and I know now my home is in Scotland with you."

"Oh, Ty," Dill whispered.

"Amy can go to hell," he said gravely. "Who needs her anyway? "

Hilary smiled. "Good for you T.C."She stood up. "I think our time is up for today, but will you be here next week, or are you going home?" she asked them.

"We're going home," Ty told her decisively. "We're packing up and taking the children home. I feel in need of some clean, fresh, pine scented air. Come on, Dill," he grinned, standing up and pulling her to her feet. "Let's go start packing!"

"Yes, sir!" Dill beamed. She turned to Hilary. "Thank you, again. I'll make sure he's online next week. The time difference will be a bit skew whiffy, but we'll sort that out."

"I have no doubt that you will," Hilary told her with a smile.

"Thanks Hilary, "McQueen said, smiling. "See you next week."

"Okay," she nodded. "Take care now."

"We will," he chuckled, grabbing Dill and shoving her out of the door.

"Hey!" she protested. "What's the rush?"

"I want to get you home," Ty breathed softly in her ear. "I really need you right now, but I'll have to wait."

"Ty!" she exclaimed. "Control yourself, man!"

"I am. That's why I'm waiting until we get home," he told her, squeezing her bottom.

He practically dragged her to the car, stroking her thigh and allowing his hand to wander as she drove. He almost caused her to crash on the way home. Once she'd parked, he grabbed her hand and dragged her through the house and up the stairs, shouting to Moira who'd appeared in the hallway, "Don't let the kids disturb us!"

Moira stood there, a spoon in her hand and a huge grin on her face, shaking her head as she went back to preparing the children's dinner.

Closing the door behind them, Ty picked up Dill and carried her to the bed. Laying her down, he began undressing her. Each button of her shirt he slowly undid, kissing the sun browned skin underneath, feeling her quiver under his lips. As he slipped the shirt off her shoulders, she began to move underneath him, grinding her hips up into his.

"You're overdressed," she whispered.

"All in good time," he mumbled as he worked on her neck and throat, kissing and licking where he could still see a faint outline of the damage he'd done.

"You practically dragged me up here," Dill gasped, as his mouth searched out her nipples, sucking them through the cotton of her bra. "Stop fannying, Ty. Let's do it."

"How romantic," Ty groaned, as her hands reached for his pants, slipping inside them kneading his behind. "You..." he sighed as a hand slid around to gently stroke his cock.

"All the way here you've been fondling me, getting me all worked up, and now you're taking it so slow I'll nod off in a minute!" Dill cried as his lips clamped around a bared nipple.

Removing her hands from his pants, she began pulling at his clothes. The buttons popping off his shirt caused him to stop suckling her and smile. "Another shirt ruined."

"I don't care," she whispered, pulling at his pants. "I'll buy you a new one."

Chuckling, Ty stood up and slowly removed his clothes. Each piece of clothing he slowly twirled around before throwing onto the floor. Finally he stood naked and grinned as Dill looked him up and down.

"My, you're gorgeous," Dill smiled. "Come here and make love to me."

"You have too many clothes on," he told her.

"That is easily remedied," she giggled, standing on the bed and stripping considerably faster than he had.

She stood on the bed, her hands on her hips. "Well, flyboy, are you going to show me if you really know how to use that kit, or is it just for show?"

He grabbed her legs and pulled them out from under her, making the bed shake as she hit it flat on her back.

"Careful!" Dill cried, her cries turning to a gasp as Ty pulled her to the edge of the bed, and kneeling, began to softly nibble and lick at her hot core. Ty began to suck on her little nub, making her squirm and reach with her hands to hold his head. He reached up and held her hands away from him.

"Oh no, you don't" he whispered. "I'm taking this at my pace."

"You swine!" she gasped, as he slid his tongue inside her and her body bucked off the bed.

Dill lay writhing as Ty made love to her with his tongue, one hand holding her hands, the other gently stroking her thigh. By the time he brought her to orgasm, she was past speech. Her whole body trembled as he licked her clean, and with a smile, kissed his way slowly up her body. Ty stopped to kiss and lick her navel, to suckle on each breast, and to nibble on her ears before, finally, his whole body lying on top of hers. He softly kissed her, his tongue tracing her lips, before gently pushing inside her mouth, letting her taste herself.

Dill's hips began to grind upwards to meet Ty's, pressing against his erection as she felt it pushing into her thigh. She rubbed herself against him, smiling, hearing his soft whimpers as she manoeuvred so that he was rubbing against the soft curls of her pubic hair. Gently she slid up and down, rubbing him against her moist centre and stimulating her clit, until the very act of rubbing herself on him brought both of them to orgasm. He cried out into her neck as she shuddered underneath him. Feeling his semen drip down between her legs as his cock continued to pump it out, she reached down and smeared some on her fingers, bringing them up to her mouth, sucking gently on them as he watched her, his chest heaving as his breathing struggled to return to normal.

"Want some?" she whispered, reaching down to wet her fingers again.

Ty said nothing, but his tongue flicked out to lick the finger she placed on his lips. Once he'd finished licking it, he sucked it into his mouth and watched as her eyes widened when she felt his hand slipping between her legs, sliding inside her, matching his finger thrusts with the sucks on her finger. Grinning, he removed his fingers and brought them to his mouth, releasing her finger and sucking on his own as she had done. Once he had them clean he again, he slid them inside her and presented them to her.

"Copy cat," she whispered, sucking his fingers clean.

"Copy this," he chuckled, as he pushed himself inside her in one smooth movement, her eyes flying open wide as he did so.

"Oh yeah," she moaned, as he slowly- far too slowly for her liking - began to slide in and out of her. "Faster."

"No," Ty told her. "I want to take it slowly... really enjoy feeling you around me. Feeling myself sliding in and out of your hot, moist ..." he trailed off.

"My hot, moist what?" Dill giggled, wriggling desperately to get him to speed up.

"I don't know," he smiled. "There isn't a nice word for it, is there? Vagina seems a little formal," he groaned, as her hips bucked upwards urging him on, "... and pussy is not nice. Of course there's c....."

"Don't say it!" Dill cried. "I really hate that word"

"What else is there?" Ty moaned, as her hands began to stroke his body, fingers dancing lightly over the scars on his back.

"Just concentrate on what you're doing," she gasped, as finally he began to increase his pace. "At last! Come on, flyboy, let's really feel you."

Covering her face with kisses, Ty gripped Dill's shoulders firmly and began to thrust more forcefully inside her, smiling at the way her hands began to stroke harder, massaging his shoulders and buttocks, pressing him closer to her. He pumped harder still, enjoying the way that she lost all ability to speak coherently and simply writhed, her legs wrapped around him as she mumbled and groaned softly. Her moans rose to fever pitch as he once again increased his speed, until finally, with him totally lost in the rhythm, having given his body control, she could do nothing more than scream as he pounded into her with a few hard, fast and deep thrusts, his orgasm hurtling through his body and seemingly through hers, looking for release.

They lay, clutched in each other's arms, both struggling for breath, until Dill started to giggle. With raised eyebrows, Ty rolled off her.

"What's so funny?" he finally managed to ask. "And be careful what you say in case you damage my already fragile ego."

"Well," Dill giggled. "You rushed me home, and I thought I was in for a frantic session of hard and furious fucking. What do I get? A slow striptease, with you being so slow I could have fallen asleep, and a discussion on what to call my bits!"

"Slow? That wasn't slow. Jeez, Dill, I can't go any faster. My heart will give out!" Ty chuckled.

"To start with you were unbearably slow. You shouldn't get me so worked up and then slow me to death," she smiled, stroking his back as he snuggled against her.

Ty simply smiled, kissing her shoulder. "You know, we really should get up and shower. It's almost time for the kids to go to bed, and I'd like to bath them before you tuck them in."

"Come on then, sexy, let's do it," Dill yawned, getting out of bed. "Will you bath me and tuck me in too?"

"Definitely," he chuckled, slapping her bottom as he followed her to the bathroom.

"Watch it, mister!" she giggled. "I might like a touch of the rough stuff."

"What do you mean, you might?" he quirked an eyebrow. "You love it hard, fast and furious."

"But not painful," she smiled, stepping under the shower. "Never painful. Coming in?"

"Of course."

They showered quickly, dressed, and headed downstairs, hand in hand, to see their children.

Six weeks later, with McQueen finally declared fit enough to return to the Saratoga, they were assembled at the gatehouse to the Scottish community they called home. Dill stood with Isobel in her arms, trying desperately not to cry in front of the children, while Ty knelt in front of the boys for final hugs and kisses. Unfortunately for Dill, neither of the boys cared about holding back their tears, and by the time his lift arrived to take him away from them, the only person not actually crying was McQueen himself. Although tears were there, he refused to let them fall. As the jeep carrying him back to the war drove away, the boys ran down the road after it. Seeing them in the mirror almost undid him, but breathing deeply, Ty mentally assumed his other persona - Colonel T.C. McQueen, Commanding Officer of the 58th Squadron, the man who took out Chiggy Von Richthofen - squashing firmly the tiny voice that screamed, you're also Ty McQueen, much loved husband and father. He couldn't afford to be that, not with a war to be won.

Fin.


End file.
